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FUNK & WAGNALLS 

NEW YORK : 1885. LONDON : 

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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1885, by 

FUNK & WAGNALLS, 

In the Ofiice of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, T). C. 



THE LIBRARY 
OF CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 



^ 



PKEFACE. 



These letters were written without the remotest 
thought of their reaching the public in any other form 
than that of the newspaper col umn. They have appeared, 
most of them in the New York Evangelist / some of them 
in the Presbyterian Journal, and some of them in the 
Episcopal Recorder, and some of them for the first time 
in these pages. They were written, several of them, 
on shipboard, while at times the vessel was apparently 
making strenuous and laudable efforts at a complete rev- 
olution on its horizontal axis, necessitating a continual 
swaying of the body to preserve a reasonably upright 
position and an occasional convulsive scramble to keep 
papers, portfolio, and inkstand from a precipitate rush 
to the floor of the saloon. A considerable number were 
written in hotels, under the feeble gleam of a candle — 
gas being a too precious commodity to waste on so- 
journers. Our library consisted of our memory, the 
regulation guide-books, Hare's excellent " Walks in 
London," Dean Stanley's charming "Westminster 
Abbey," and Green's " Short History of the English 
People." 

Yielding, of course " very reluctantly," to the ex- 
pressed wishes of friends, the letters now venture forth 
tremblingly to the public view on the pages of this little 
volume. If the readers shall be somewhat enlightened 
and instructed thereby, if prospective tourists shall be 



IV PREFACE. 

assisted in their sight-seeing, if copies enough be sold to 
cover expenses, and last, not least, if those dreadful 
spirits that walk the earth both when we wake and when 
we sleep, to let aspiring authors know what a nightmare 
feels like — we mean the critics, should they condescend to 
notice the book at all — will be only reasonably imsevere, 
the author will be satisfied, though he will not unfeelingly 
turn a deaf ear to any commendations their autocracies 
may see fit to bestow. 



W. P. Bkeed. 



Philadelphia, January, 1885. 



CONTENTS. 



PAOE 

On the Ocean 7 

The Great Presbyterian Council 16 

London Around Craven Street 25 

London from Aloft 33 

A Striking Contrast in London 49 

Westminster Abbey 53 

Westminster Hall G3 

Lambeth Palace 76 

Hampton Court 86 

Face to Face with Oliver Cromwell 9? 

Canterbury Cathedral 101 

Hastings Ill 

Brede 115 

Battle Abbey 118 



VI CONTENTS, 

PAGE 

The Isle op Wight 122 

Sarum Old and New 133 

At Lake Windermere 141 

Our Sabbaths in Great Britain 149 

Homeward Bound 155 



ABOARD AND ABROAD. 



ON THE OCEAN. 

Steamship City of Richmond, June, 1884. 
" Nothing tortures history so much as logic, " wrote 
Guizot, and nothing tortures logic so much as history. 
The history of our first hours on board effectually re- 
shaped the logic of our programme. That programme, 
largely drawn up by ladies' ringers, including an early, 
very early arrival at our quarters below deck, an unpacking 
and "setting to rights" of our state-room fixings, and 
then an eligible viewpoint on deck as the City of Rich- 
mond floated out into and across the bay, past the 
wharves with their buzzing swarms of golden honey- 
seekers, past the forests of masts, serpentining among the 
water craft of every variety, from the shell of a rowboat 
dancing on the wave, ferryboat, and yacht, to the kingly 
steamer ; past Bedloe's Island, where the Bartholdian 
Liberty does not yet enlighten the world ; past Gibbet 
Island, where they used to hang pirates ; past Governor's 
Island, where Gen. Hancock keeps watch and ward, and 
where that piece of tottering brick antiquity, Fort 
Hamilton, shows an ominous symbol of the condition of 
our coast defences ; on between Fort Lafayette and Fort 
Wadsworth, if that is its name, out of the Narrows, and 
out to sea. 



8 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

But the plan of pre-entrance of our state-room and 
adjustment of things was met by the emphatic negative 
of the polite and efficient baggage-master of the In man 
Line, Pier No. 36. " No, gentlemen and ladies, it 
will not be allowed ! No baggage in rooms till the ship 
is loose from the wharf. ' ' It seems that as eagles around 
the prej, so thieves in pantaloons and thieves in the 
other sort of attire hover around a departing ship, and 
many a passenger has missed a precious parcel that has 
been carefully deposited in some nook in the state-room, 
as in a place of unquestioned security. One lady thus 
parted with a box of jewels. A "perfect gentleman" 
in manners and attire was arrested, and found to be 
most affluently provided with passports to trunks, 
satchels, etc., in the shape of keys and other cunning 
instruments of ingress. Then, to our amazement, half 
way down the bay our ship dropped anchor, and waited 
for two hours for water to float us over the bar ! But 
"it's an ill wind that blows nowhar." The delay in 
the bay enables certain passengers to take in peace and 
comfort the only dinner they thus enjoyed for several 
days. 

We find the City of Richmond a city that is com- 
pact together whither the tribes go up, and where for 
ten days or so they sojourn in comfort and safety. The 
ship is finely ventilated. Great tin funnels with capa- 
cious mouths open above the deck, swallow down great 
gulps of ocean air and disgorge it into the passage-ways 
below, and with such force as in one instance almost to 
de-cap-itate a lady friend of mine as she passed unsuspect- 
ingly by ; at least the gust seized her cap with the 
evident intent of projecting it through the porthole just 
opposite into the sea for the benefit of Neptune's 
maidens, who dwell in the grottoes below, and make 



ON THE OCEAN". i» 

the ocean beautiful ; but the gust had miscalculated the 
number and strength of hairpins. 

The state-rooms are commodious, table good, officers 
gentlemanly, the captain free in his intercourse with 
passengers and of very genial manners. In physique 
our captain is a typical Englishman. His name is 
Captain F. S. Land. Had his parents named him Isaac, 
he would in all circumstances have been an I. Land ; even 
in the position of that patch of territory of which the 
showman spoke when he said : " This animal, my little 
dears, was found in an island which is seventy-five miles, 
distant from both land and water." One great advantage 
in crossing the ocean in the Richmond, with him in 
command, is that through the whole voyage the pas- 
senger is at farthest never more than some two hundred 
feet from Land. 

SAFETY OF LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE. 

Until my conversation with Captain Land I had a lands- 
man's suspicion that more or less danger attended ocean 
transit, but the captain almost convinced me that about 
the only place of complete safety on the planet is the 
deck or cabin of a good ship, with a good captain in com- 
mand. 1 find that it is incalculably more dangerous to 
go from New York to Chicago in an express train than 
to go from New York to Liverpool in a good steamer. 
And as to collisions, why those trains, even though the 
iron track is laid down for them to hold them to their 
course, in spite of all, dash into one another and knock 
each other to flinders ! " Why bless my soul, a man 
came over with me and was so frightened that he vowed 
he would never again risk his life on the ocean, and he 
had not been on land more than three days when a brick 
fell on his head, as he was walking the streets of Liver- 



10 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

pool, and killed him !" It was of course impossible to 
deny that the cases are very rare in which bricks fall from 
scaffolds on the heads of passengers on shipboard, nor 
does it admit of question that the mortality on shore 
greatly exceeds the mortality at sea. 

FOGS. 

But the captain freely admitted that a fog was always 
the lurking-place of peril. If there was anything in the 
world he could do without it was a fog, and if they 
awaited his orders, the first one would be post-millennial. 
At the time of our sailing, an Allegheny range of fog- 
mountain frowned from Newfoundland to Long Island. 
Accordingly, the lights of the range of hotels on Coney 
Island had hardly disappeared below the horizon when 
we found ourselves deep in its caverns. And now for 
some twelve hours about every thirty seconds the satanic 
screech of the fog- whistle tore through the passage-ways 
and through the ears and along the nerves of the pas- 
sengers, keeping them keenly alive to the possible prox- 
imity of a shattering collision with something. One 
serious element in this discomfort lies in the length of 
these steamers and the consequent difficulty of diverting 
them from their line of onward movement. Our steamer 
reared up on end by the side of our "West Spruce Street 
church steeple, would reach 120 feet higher than the top 
of the spire ; set clown in Sixteenth Street with one end 
at Spruce Street, the other end would obstruct travel in 
Pine Street. It is obviously impossible to get such dimen- 
sions out of the way as quickly as one can jerk a boy off 
a railroad track. But Captain Land insists that a chief 
ingredient in this fog-peril will be eliminated when 
men in command of vessels will consent to blow the steam- 
whistle often enough. In a still, quiet fog the whistle 



ON THE OCEAN. 11 

is heard for miles, and by its voice such information 
respecting position and movement may be passed as to 
obviate all danger of collision. As it is, many a calamity 
sends terror and death among passengers, and heartache 
to many a fireside, simply because so long a time is 
allowed to elapse between the whistle-screams, that when 
the last blast is given the collision has already become 
inevitable. 

Captain Land has had experience of the felicities of 
collision. He commanded the City of Brussels when she 
was run into and sent to the bottom in twenty minutes, 
and at the end of that period he had the passengers all 
in safety, and he and his crew were swimming about 
in the Channel like goldfish in an armarium. 

Another peril of the seas is 

THE ICEBEEG. 

We are off " The Banks," the sun is going down, and 
in the horizon to the north a dazzling point of light, 
and then a few miles away another, and then still 
another ! They approach and grow in size and brilliancy, 
and the exciting word is simultaneously on every lip, 
" Icebergs !." Yes, there they are, with their crystal 
walls rising sheer from the water's edge, their splintered 
pinnacles and rugged humps showing like mountain dia- 
monds — Kohinoors — in the rays of the descending sun. 
One of them, a vast table of ice, with a tower at each 
corner, suggests the Taj Mahal, another the Castle of 
Heidelberg, and the third the prow of a huge ship, all 
coming down upon us like floating Gibraltars, to ride 
us beneath the wave, and leave no one to tell the tale. 
The captain shakes his head at the white icy demons, 
and exclaims, " From fogs and icebergs, good Lord deliver 
us !" It is principally in the dark night that these ice 



12 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

rocks are terrible. " The rascals," says the captain, 
" if they would show their lights and blow their whis- 
tles !" But they steal down upon the unsuspecting ship 
with its sleeping freight of human life, full of dreams 
of home and home jewels, the monsters pushing before 
them far-reaching terraces of cutting crystal beneath the 
surface of the sea, and the first warning is the crash that 
awakes the doomed floating household, men, women, 
and children, to despair and death ! And yet how 
bright the monsters gleam in the sunlight ! How they 
smile and beckon us to await their coming, white all 
over with the sheeted ghosts of those whom their chill 
brothers have hurried into eternity ! No, thank you ! 
We feel already your death-chill in the air. The good 
City of "Richmond is just now going fifteen miles an 
hour, and five miles an hour is the utmost speed your 
lumbering peril can achieve ; so we leave you to the 
ultimate fate of all peril to man — to dissolution. While 
we are safe and sound upon the land, you will be dis- 
solved into useful brine by the persuasive caloric of the 
Gulf Stream, a better fate than you deserve ! 

Some one of those pretentious sciolists that swarm in 
society has sneeringly assured the Christian world that 
it must yield " From Greenland's icy mountains" to 
the iconoclast's hammer, because, forsooth, it has been 
discovered that the interior of Greenland is a beautiful 
expanse of verdure. And for many a day to come, 
some who have read that statement will recall it when- 
ever that hymn is sung. But hardly had it appeared 
when the papers of Mr. Whymper and the Duke of 
Argyle inform the world that the conjecture of Norden- 
skjold, repeated as a fact by the eager iconoclast, as to 
the verdant fertility of Greenland has no foundation, and 
that in fact all Greenland, a terrestrial expanse larger 



ON THE OCEAN. 13 

than India, is overlaid and crashed down under a pall 
of ice and snow, in many places hundreds, if not 
thousands, of feet thick ! Through fiords on the west- 
ern coast, this interior continent of ice flows in glaciers, 
which slowly crawling out to sea, at length break off 
and come floating southward, and lie in wait for un- 
suspecting ships, that they may in night or fog dash 
themselves to pieces against their rocky sides. 

But, after all, the cliillest, grimmest of icebergs lurking 
in the path of human life is Unbelief, against the sides 
of which, when the collision comes, is ground to ruin all 
that is bright and beautiful in fancy, true and creative 
in imagination, valuable in history, precious in domestic 
life, and priceless in Christian hope. But these icebergs 
are shortlived. They soon melt in the warm Gnlf 
Stream. And as surely as the sun shines, in the warm 
atmosphere of Christian Faith, Unbelief will dissolve, 
and like the baseless fabric of a dream, leave no mark 
behind. Amen, and Amen ! 

TIIE MISSIONARY AND THE CONSUMPTIVE. 

During the passage we became acquainted with one of 
the " intermediate 1 ' passengers, the Rev. James Baugh, 
a AVesleyan Methodist, twenty years a missionary in In- 
dia, now for a time pastor of a church in Cornwall, Eng- 
land. Partly for his health, partly to " prospect" for 
his boys, he had visited California. We found him an 
earnest, devout servant of the Master. Mr. Baugh ex- 
pected to return to India and resume his work. He was 
well acquainted with the celebrated Ram Chunder Sen. 
In a conversation with Mr. Sen, Mr. Baugh asked 
him : 

" Why do you not fully adopt the Christian faith and 
place yourself at the head of this great movement V 



14 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

lie answered, looking straight before him and not at 
any one in the company : 

" Day before yesterday I did not know what I should 
be yesterday ; yesterday 1 did not know what I should 
be to-day ; to-day I do not know what 1 may be to-mor- 
row." This was all the reply. 

Ram Chunder Sen lost considerably in reputation 
among his followers by one act of great, though perhaps 
pardonable, inconsistency. A prominent tenet of the 
Brahmo-Somaj forbids the marrying of daughters under 
fourteen years of age. But when a certain Rajah of 
note proposed to marry Chunder Sen's daughter, ten 
years old, the temptation was too strong for the father's 
principles, and principles gave way to interest ; or per- 
haps to affection for his child, whose welfare, all things 
considered, he may have supposed would be promoted by 
such an alliance. 

Our acquaintance with Mr. Baugh originated in an 
incident that resulted greatly to the advantage of a certain 
family in the steerage. An anonymous note was put 
into my hand, saying that a young man, erelong to die 
of consumption, on his way back to his home in the in- 
terior of Ireland, was to be landed at Liverpool with wife 
and two children and without a penny for food or travel. 
Friends in New York had paid the passage to Liverpool, 
but no farther. The intermediate passengers had con- 
tributed a purse of some forty -five shillings, and we were 
asked to add to the little fund. To ascertain the facts 
of the case we sought, through Mr. Baugh, an introduc- 
tion to the family. The mother was pale, slender, with 
a bright, hollow-cheeked babe in her arms and an older 
child clinging to her skirts. The husband and father 
carried in his face and in his emaciated frame the clearly 
written sentence of death. Our report of the case re- 



ON - THE OCEAN". 15 

suited in a subscription and a " concert" and some seven 
pounds in money. This the ladies of the saloon put into 
a bag and judiciously conveyed to the woman without 
the knowledge of her fellow-passengers in the steerage, 
and hung it about her neck. The family were Roman- 
ists, and a priest in the saloon was informed of the case, 
but too obviously gave it very little of his attention. 

SABBATH AT SEA. 

" The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven," and 
like a resistless leaven it has penetrated the customs, the 
thought, the will of the Christian world. What a mar- 
vellous effect of quiet power the arrest laid, one day in 
seven, upon the world's clashing, clanging enginery ! 
"We found the Sabbath in the very air a thousand miles 
out at sea. Of course our floating microcosm contains a 
great variety. Some of our people wear their robes of 
veneration for sacred things very loosely girdled about 
them. But all day long a most decided Sabbath air per- 
vaded our little world. The usual games were inter- 
mitted. When the bell rang for worship, a very large pro- 
portion of our population assembled in the place of prayer, 
including a considerable portion of the crew. The cap- 
tain read the Church of England service, and then, as 
the only other clergyman on board was of the Yatican 
persuasion, he politely requested the writer to give the 
congregation a ten minutes' sermon, which he did, and, 
strange as it may seem, kept within the time ! In the 
afternoon we held a regular Presbyterian service. Of 
the music, the best that we can say is that it was hearty 
and well-meant, though there is reason to fear that none 
of the pieces would have been encored at the Academy 
of Music. In the evening two companies of singers, one 
at each end of the deck, rolled out upon the air in loud 



16 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

choruses " Rock of Ages, cleft for me," " Jesus, Lover 
of my Soul," " Tell me the Old, Old Story," etc. A 
Presbyterian young lady insists that all day long the 
engine, as the sturdy piston-rods shot up and down, kept 
repeating, " man's chief end, man's chief end, man's 
chief end," etc. So, although we have an Episcopal 
captain, it is plain that we have a Presbyterian engine, 
as, orthodox as Calvin, and as persistent and uncompro- 
mising as Knox. 

And now another Sabbath is approaching, and so is 
Queenstown. 



THE GREAT PRESBYTERIAN COUNCIL. 

Belfast, July 5, 1884. 

Long before the hour appointed for the meeting of the 
Council on the morning of the 21th of June, the crowd 
began to gather in the street in front of the Clifton 
Street church (the Rev. John Mecredy, pastor), and 
when the procession emerged on its way to St. Enoch's, 
the blue badges flapping in the wind, it was welcomed by 
cheer after cheer with true Irish heartiness. The able 
and appropriate sermon of Dr. Watts to an immense 
congregation was a fitting introduction to the ten days' 
series of Council " sederunts." The public reception in 
the evening at the Botanical Gardens by the Mayor of 
Belfast, Sir David Taylor, dressed in his official regalia, 
was a splendid affair. 

In fine keeping with such an opening of the Council 
were the dinners in Ulster Hall — a hall of vast propor- 
tions, very high ceiling, galleries at one end and along 
the sides, at the other end an immense organ, and in 



THE GEE AT PKESBYTERIAN" COUNCIL. 17 

front of it a Irigh platform with an almost regal canopy in 
the centre. Tables to seat many hundreds were ranged 
side by side along the length of the hall. On the face 
of the gallery, in almost every panel, was the burning 
bush, no two forms alike — ardens sed virens, nee tamen 
consumebatur. But what most quickly caught the eye 
and gratified the Philadelphians was a beautiful repro- 
duction of Dv. McCook's fine historical panels ranged on 
the walls beneath the galleries. These and the burning- 
bushes were the work of a " true blue" Presbyterian 
lady, Mrs. Samuel Andrews, of Belfast. As the crowd 
of hungry Councilmen, with their wives and daughters, 
filed in between the tables, they were greeted with thun- 
dering tones from the lungs of the great organ ; and ere 
the viands were attacked a psalm of praise was sung, and 
the whole proceeding closed with fine after-dinner ora- 
tions. 

The character and influence of the Council as a whole 
has been unquestionably and powerfully stimulating to 
every healthful impulse of the Church, both doctrinal 
and practical. It was something to have to report some 
sixty-five thousand dollars collected and invested to sup- 
plement the salaries of the pastors and professors in the 
Waldensian valleys ; another fund of twenty-five thou- 
sand dollars, initiated and somewhat advanced, for the 
struggling brethren of Bohemia, and measures taken to 
complete this and accomplish other similar work. To 
those in more direct communication with the feebler 
Presbyterian churches scattered over the European Con- 
tinent, it is touching to mark the eagerness of the gaze 
they fix upon the Alliance, as represented in the Council. 
To them the Alliance is more than a beacon in the dusky 
and troubled horizon— it is a quickening, energizing 
force ; and the failure of this effort to combine the Pres- 



18 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

byterianism of the world, would send a chill through all 
their souls. Against failure, however, the steps toward 
more compact organization give good security. 

st. Enoch's church. 

The church of St. Enoch opened wide to the Council 
its hospitable doors, and welcomed it with psalms and 
hymns and spiritual songs. As the. patriarch Enoch was 
of course a Presbyterian, he no doubt looked a benedic- 
tion from his sunny heights upon the great crowd of 
champions of the faith, come from the ends of the earth 
to further and fortify the interests of the great cause. 
Not many church edifices are so well adapted to the 
needs of such a body, where much of the speaking is 
done from various parts of the house. Indeed, the 
churches that 1 have seen in Belfast are built upon a 
different plan from most of ours. They cover less 
ground, abound in galleries, and thus seat large numbers 
within a small circumference. St. Enoch's is what we 
may call a three-story church. Two deep galleries look 
from three sides of the church upon the pulpit on the 
fourth side, and with the pews upon the floor the church 
will seat about three thousand people. The pulpit is 
high, and behind and above it, in a deep, large recess, 
the choir, consisting of fifty or sixty voices, poured a tide 
of harmony over the house. 

Nothing has struck me more forcibly than the fondness 
of the people here for the songs of Zion. In the services 
of the churches we attended a much larger room was 
given to song than in our churches at home — larger in 
time, larger in volume — for here the injunction is not 
ignored, "Let all the people praise Thee." At the 
opening of the sessions, and often at the close, and re- 
peatedly between the several papers, and as the Council 



THE GREAT PRESBYTERIAN COUNCIL. 19 

passed to a fresh subject, four, five, or six verses of a 
psalm were sung. 

The Rev. Hugh Ilanna is the first, and so far the only, 
pastor of this church ; " and from the few who called him 
to be their minister, he has built up this wonderful con- 
gregation, which is a credit not only to Belfast, but to 
Presbyterianism." So says the London Presbyterian. 
Among other facts that testify to the vigorous vitality of 
this church is the fact that its Sabbath-school roll em- 
braces three thousand names ! We thought that we in 
America " beat all creation" in the size of our Sabbath- 
schools, but we have few so large as this. 

THE CUMBERLAND PRESBYTERIANS. 

The very rafters of St. Enoch's rang again with the 
eloquence evoked by the Cumberland Presbyterian ques- 
tion. The large and able committee who had the 
matter in charge, embracing almost every shade of opin- 
ion, after elaborate consideration unanimously recom- 
mended the admission of that Church to the Alliance, 
and of their delegates to the Council. Notwithstanding 
this, it soon became evident that the question was one of 
great difficulty and great delicacy. As Dr. Chambers said, 
the case was unlike any other that had come before the 
Council. It was true that the Assembly of that Church 
had by formal vote adopted the Constitution of the Alli- 
ance, but it was also true that they had since that adopted 
a revision of the Confession of Faith and Shorter Cate- 
chism, copies of which revision were in the hands of some 
of the members, and which excluded matter that was 
vital to the Calvinistic system. It was said in behalf of 
the applicants that there were other churches in the Al- 
liance whose doctrinal position was quite as questionable 
as that of the Cumberland brethren. This is undoubtedly 



20 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

true. But the actual Confessions of most of the 
churches that embosom unsound elements are . very 
sound, and it is one thing to admit to the Alliance 
churches containing unhealthy elements whose doctrinal 
standards are sound, and another to admit churches 
whose very standards are adverse to what the " Con- 
sensus' ' holds to be Scripture teaching. In the case of 
the former, it may be hoped that the leaven of pure doc- 
trine in their standards may work advance in the right 
direction, while in the case of the others there is reason 
to fear progress in the wrong direction. Dr. Charles 
Hodge once said that two persons may actually stand 
upon the same knoll on the hillside and thus be equally 
near the top, but our judgment of them severally will be 
determined by the direction in which they are going. 
The one ascending the hill Difficulty may be no ivjarer 
the palace Beautiful than the one going down, and yet 
he is much fitter to be our companion on the way. 
Now the recency of what all agreed was a most unhappy 
departure from sound doctrine could not fail to impress 
very many minds with the feeling that the doctrinal 
progress of these brethren is in the wrong direction. 

And in these days, when the apostles of innovation are 
watching with eagle eye and welcoming with ill-con- 
cealed exultation every apparent symptom of decline in 
faith and surrender to the clamors of unbelief, no incon- 
siderable number in the Council felt that to admit these 
brethren without caveat would be sure to be interpreted 
as evidence of sympathy with them in their disposition 
to modify and mutilate the venerable standards of the 
Church. Accordingly, Dr. Chambers's amendment to 
the effect that the Council admit these delegates without 
approving of the revision, carried by the vote of 112 for 
and 74 against, saved the Council from committal to 



THE GREAT PRESBYTERIAN" COUNCIL. 21 

those unhappy modifications of the good old standards, 
admitted the Church to the Alliance, and thus solved 
what very many of the Council felt to be an exceedingly 
perplexing difficulty. This narrow gate fairly passed, the 
subsequent treatment of the brethren thus admitted was 
certainly all that could be desired. They were welcomed 
to the floor with applause, and one of their number was 
chosen to preside at one of the meetings of the Council. 

EPISODES. 

Saturday, June 28th, was altogether episodal. The 
far-reaching hospitality of Belfast Presbyterianism 
having planned an excursion this day to the Giant's 
Causeway, by rail, and a pedestrian suffix, under the lead 
of Bishop Simpson, of Port Hush round by Tonduff, or, 
as one of our Philadelphia elders called it, Thomas Duff, 
the Council, by a self-denying ordinance, intermitted la- 
bor and " accepted the situation." It proved to be the 
anniversary of the Queen's coronation, and combined with 
its celebration was that of the Queen's birthday, which, 
on account of the death of Prince Leopold, had been 
deferred. Belfast was all alive with processions. One 
passed under our windows, walking in the middle of the 
street — a long line of neatly-dressed, merry-spirited 
Sunday-school children, with their teachers, headed by a 
band of music, and the band headed and flanked by a 
motley Arab crew (male and female), the latter, many 
of them dirty, ragged, and, what we so seldom see 
in America, barefooted, planting the foot down with 
an energy that was careless of pebbles and other impedi- 
ments to comfort. 

For dominating reasons we did not join the party, but 
compensated ourselves with two shorter excursions. In 
the morning we went south four miles to the Giant's 



22 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

Ring. This ring was probably intended for the finger 
of the Giant Fin M'Coul, who built the Causeway. It 
is certainly big enough for any giant of reasonable size, 
as lying on the ground it forms a circular mound, re- 
mindinff one of the far-famed circular mounds in Ohio. 
It encloses several acres, and is some twelve or fifteen 
feet high. In the centre is a large cromlech, or stone 
altar. The number of great stones standing on edge and 
forming the sacred circle is seven — the mystic number 
seven. Resting upon these seven stones is another very 
large one, which formed the top of the altar. An en- 
lightened, large, and judicious liberality has enclosed the 
whole " Ring" with a massive wall, and secured to 
future generations the possession of this curious relic of 
a remote antiquity. 

" Soldiers I" said Napoleon, pointing to the great 
pyramid, " from that summit forty centuries look down 
upon us." And to-daj r as we confronted those silent 
stones we know not how many centuries returned our 
gaze, nor what rivers of blood had at the bidding of grim 
Druidical priests flowed over them, leaving stains which 
the merciful sun and the pitying rains of ages have washed 
and bleached away. Who can imagine a greater con- 
trast than that presented on the one hand by the scenes 
around this grim stone altar in those far-gone ages, and 
on the other by the scenes in the Council in St. Enoch's 
Church ! There shrieks and groans and savage rites, 
and here a hundred voices of young men and maidens 
blending with organ notes in praise of the meek and 
lowly Jesus, and in the intervals grand expositions of 
Gospel truth, prayers, and thrilling tales of toil, sacrifice, 
and success in heathen and even in cannibal lands ! Nor 
is it impossible that some ancestor of some of these able 
and eloquent pleaders for Gospel truth, with his own 



THE GREAT PRESBYTERIAN COUNCIL. 23 

hand buried the knife in the bosom of many a human 
victim lying on the stone before me in this now bright, 
beautiful, flower-spangled field ! 

In the afternoon we attempted Cave Hill, to the north 
of the town, the name of the hill signifying the exist- 
ence of caves in its sides. Oar enterprise, however, was 
not a distinguished success. One of our most serious 
troubles arose not from boycotting, but from bulldozing. 
The " tram-car" deposited us a couple of miles from 
the " Imperial Hotel," at the foot of Cave Hill, up 
whose steep sides was a narrow path, with high liaw- 
thorned inclosures on each hand. But of this there was 
nothing to complain. The sun was bright and the day 
was hot, and we soon began to perspire and grow weary, 
and wish that Lord Dundreary or some other lord would 
construct a " lift'' for our comfort. But remembering 
that the palace Beautiful is always at the top of the hill 
Difficulty, we took courage and pressed on. And now, 
to our dismay, filling up the path with a compact mass 
of hoofs, horns, and their concomitants, were four cows 
and a bull ! Our only weapon of offence and defence 
was an umbrella, not strong enough to shed a bovine 
storm. The cows with their meek looks did not cow us, 
but that bovine brother of theirs, as too obviously ap- 
peared in the shake of his head, was, as they say in 
" Arkansaw," " spilin' for a fight." But I was entirely 
unprepared for a bull-fight. To retreat was equally diffi- 
cult, inglorious, and un-Calvinistic. Even Luther, who 
was no Calvinist, took even the Pope's own blessed bull 
by the horns. At first we thought to cross the very 
forbidding thorny stile, and thus yield to our horned 
competitors the right of way ; but lo ! staring us in the 
face was an exclamatory placard shouting " Dogs shot 
and trespassers arrested !" Well, between our inimitable 



24 ABOAKD AND ABROAD. 

Skye and that gun at least three thousand miles of bil- 
lows rolled, and so the dog was safe. Looking for relief 
across the opposite stile, lo ! another vociferation : " All 
persons found outside this lane arrested !" It struck the 
mind at once, that should the officer lay hands upon us, 
we should politely ask him why he began with us, for all 
Belfast was also outside that lane. But John Bull's pro- 
verbial deliberation in penetrating a joke left us without 
much consolation. And here we were with one of John 
Bull's four-footed subjects shaking his head at us, and 
we knew not at what moment he might precipitate him- 
self upon us, and put an honorable member of the Pan- 
Council in a very humiliating plight ; and on each side 
of the stile John himself, with his coat off and in a bel- 
ligerant attitude ! Never can an adherent of the West- 
minster Standards have been more thoroughly bulldozed, 
though w r e were far from being in a dozing mood. But 
the darkest hour is just before the day. In the nick of 
time the instincts of the American politician rose within, 
and we took to the fence, and by a judicious flank move- 
ment without actually " trespassing'' evaded the horns 
of the bull and reached the open fields, beyond danger. 

How sudden sometimes the ascent from the ridiculous 
to the sublime ! Scarcely had we emerged from conflict 
with the cattle when we came upon two young Irish 
lovers, sitting not " on the stile," but on the grass, in 
the shade of a hawthorn bush, hand in hand, and looking 
Cupid's arrows into each other's eyes, oblivious of all 
else but each other, and no doubt humming in thei-r 

hearts 

" There's nothing half so sweet in life 
As love's young dream." 

At length we reached an elevated, isolated spur on the 
hill, and sat down to enjoy the rewards of our persever- 



LONDON AROUND CRAVEN STREET. &> 

ancc. But the southern shoulder of the hill completely- 
shut from view all of the town but a few smoke-stacks, a 
plenty of which we can see at home. There remained 
the landscape between the foot of the hill and the waters 
of Belfast Lough, and the surface of the Lough, all of 
which we are sure are very beautiful when visible. Had 
not the contest with the cattle and the weariness of the 
ascent wrought a shabby prosiness of spirit, we might 
have " dropped into poetry" as we looked into the hazy 
expanse, and sung 

" What visionary tints the year puts on 
When jocund June is smiling through the air ; 
How shimmer the low flats and pastures bare, 
As with her nectar Hebe Summer fills 
The bowl between me and those distant hills, 
And smiles and shakes abroad her misty, tremulous hair." 

But just then came to mind the words of a fellow-travel- 
ler on the tram-car about " this nahsty haze !" So sud- 
den was the lapse from the sublime to the ridiculous. 



LONDON AROUND CRAVEN STREET. 

A circular tablet eighteen inches or two feet in diam- 
eter, hearing the inscription, " Lived here, Benjamin 
Franklin, Printer, Philosopher, and Statesman : Born 
1709, Died 1790," ornaments the front of the house, No. 
7 Craven Street, Charing Cross, which gives us bed and 
"board in this great combination of Vanity Fair, Athens, 
and several other cities, ancient and modern. Within 
these walls the great Benjamin, a " right hand" of his 



20 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

struggling country, pondered the intricate problems of 
Lis mission, and out of these doors he sallied to confront 
at the bar of the Parliament, three-fourths of whom wore 
the collar of George III., as slaves bought with his 
money, the smiles of a handful of friends, and the frowns 
and sneers of a houseful of enemies. If, after so long 
an interval, any of his exuberant wisdom still lingers in the 
crannies of this old domicile, we hope to absorb a portion 
of it. There is reason, however, to fear that it has not 
yet taken serious effect. For we get easily taken in by 
the " cabbies," and now and then we have been " sold" 
with a leaden two-shilling piece, and, in addition to all, 
we went on Sunday afternoon to " the Temple" church, 
Fleet Street, to hear Dr. Joseph Parker, who preaches 
in the " City Temple" church, Holburn Viaduct, and 
instead of a good, comfortable, Congregational service, 
we experienced a protracted High Church service. 

Were the houses to the south of ours either out of the 
way or a few stories less in altitude, Lord Nelson in 
bronze would look in at our windows from his exalted 
position on the top of his granite pillar, one hundred 
and forty-five feet up in the air, Landseer's four huge 
lions crouching at the foot, their manes wet now and 
then by the spray of the plashing fountains. But sound 
unhampered by the limitations of sight reaches our win- 
dows, and through them our ears, over the housetops 
from various quarters, especially from the belfry of 
" St. Martins in the Fields" — St. Martins with its beau- 
tiful Grecian portico, in the " Fields," once green with 
grass, now gray with paving-stones ; once waving with 
trees, now rigid with high brick walls and walls of stone ; 
once vocal with the songs of birds, now with the babel 
of London street cries. Every fifteen minutes the clock 
in St. Martins tower fino-ers off the melodious announce- 



LONDON AROUND CRAVEN STREET. 27 

ment that another quarter of an hour has joined tlio 
centuries in the past, and when four of these quarters 
are at an end, St. Martins flourishes off the fact with a 
somewhat ostentations serenade. But as an indication 
of the impertinence of youth in the presence of age, or 
perhaps of the supremacy in all things of the " omnipo- 
tence of Parliament," no sooner has St. Martins touched 
his keys than the clock in the " New Palace of West- 
minster" tower breaks in with its autocratic boom, and 
the aged saint subsides into an humble accompaniment 
of his big, young cousin. 

The Franklin House is modest in dimensions and re- 
publican in pretensions. It is three stories high, the 
front of the lowest story now plastered and painted cream 
color, the other stories of unconcealed English brick, not 
over-smooth, once yellow, now of mottled chimney- 
sweeper tinge. 

Craven Street is not unlike the centre of a cyclone, 
very quiet in itself, but encompassed by rush and roar. 
At one end of its very brief career is the impetuous 
Strand ; not far from the other, the embankment and 
the Thames. 

Close at hand as you go up the Strand you come upon 

CHARING CROSS. 

If, in these days of howling railway trains, rush of 
human myriads, struggle in the world-wide arena for a 
share of the great, invisible gold-pile, one carries with 
him any reasonable supply of sentiment, he will do well 
to keep it in a strong box, carefully wrapped in cotton, 
unless he is willing to risk a good deal of mutilation in 
his going to and fro. One walking for the first time in 
Jerusalem — Jerusalem festooned in his imagination with 
associations so tender, so hallowed, that he feels like 



28 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

taking the shoes off his feet in their presence, only to find 
its filthy streets full of half-starved dogs and more than 
half -starved beggars and lepers, is likely to wish that he 
had been content to enjoy the Jerusalem of his imagina- 
tion, and not expose that city of his dreams to so dreadful 
a mutilation. So when we go out of our temporary 
home in Craven Street, London, laden with memories of 
the beautiful, devoted, Queen Eleanor, of Castile, in 
quest of Charing Cross, and find ourselves put off with a 
bit of Gothic glory in marble, a modern reproduction of 
the original cross set up in the courtyard of a huge, 
brawling hotel and thundering railway-station, we are 
tempted to wish that we had been satisfied with our long- 
cherished fancies, and thus saved them from collision 
with these hard, iconoclastic realities. 

The story of Queen Eleanor and of those many crosses 
erected in her memory by her loving husband is one 
among many bits of historic romance that still glow with 
a subdued beauty even in the smoke-cloud that ever 
hangs over that enormous hive of human beings. 

Edward 1., the husband of Queen Eleanor, for thirty- 
five years king of England, " the first English sovereign 
that combined political sagacity with military genius," 
was every inch a king. And this is saying a good deal, 
for he was the tallest man in England, his legs being of 
rather superfluous length, from which he received the 
not very euphonious title of Longshanks. He was skilled 
in all martial exercises, and could leap into the saddle 
without putting his hand on it. He was handsome, his 
complexion fair, and his features regular, excepting a 
family drooping of the eyelids. Ordinarily his demean- 
or was that of a deep river, steady in its flow, but on 
occasion he suddenly became a strong river impeded in 
its flow and raged with savage passion. His bride, Donna 



LONDON AROUND CRAVEN STREET. 29 

Leonora, of Castile, might be called the Princess of Peace, 
for the war between Edward's father, Henry III., and 
her father, Alfonse, King of Castile, was sealed with the 
gift of this beautiful child, not yet fourteen years old, 
to Edward, who was but a little older. Through all 
their wedded life till her death at Grantham, in Lincoln- 
shire, her influence over the rugged, passionate nature 
of the king was like rain upon the mown grass and as 
showers that water the earth. Many a time was the furi- 
ous current of his passions diverted from a course of 
violence by her gentle, yet powerful, hand. 

While sitting one day in Windsor Castle at a game of 
chess, a sudden impulse seized him to spring from his 
seat, and scarcely had he done so when a stone from the 
groined roof above his head fell with a crash upon the 
very spot where he had been sitting. Taking this as an 
intimation from Providence that he was reserved for 
some holy service, he determined to accompany the King 
of France in a crusade to the Holy Land, and on August 
20th, 1270, he set out on his holy expedition. And 
what of his faithful Eleanor ? She determined to accom- 
pany him, and no persuasion could induce her to desist. 
When warned of the perils of such a course she replied 
that nothing ought to part those whom God had joined 
together. " Heaven," she said, " is as near, if not 
nearer, from Syria as from England or Spain." 

While the king was at Acre, in Syria, reclining one 
day on his couch, a man entered " with letters from 
Joppa,' ' and as Edward was reading them the man drew 
a dagger and aimed a blow at his side. Edward caught 
the arm of the villain, but the latter succeeded in inflict- 
ing a wound on his forehead. The would-be assassin 
was slain, but the dagger had been poisoned, and now, 
again, the fidelity of the true woman appeared. Eleanor 



30 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

ran to her husband, and kneeling by him sucked the 
wound to draw out the poison, and would only leave him 
to the surgeon by being dragged, struggling and sob- 
bing, from the tent. Fifteen days after she gave birth 
to her eldest daughter, named Joan of Acre. 

The year 1292 saw Edward on his way in his first ex- 
pedition to the Scottish border and Eleanor on her way 
to join him. But at Grantham she fell sick. Word 
having reached the king of her illness, he set out from 
his camp and rode day and night to see her, but when 
he arrived she had breathed her last. Overwhelmed 
with grief, the king forgot for the time his military raid, 
and accompanied the beloved remains to Westminster 
Abbey. Slowly, solemnly, day after day, for thirteen 
days the funeral procession moved southward. Every 
evening the bier rested in the market-place of some 
town, and where it rested the king caused a costly, 
richly-carved marble market-cross to be erected, only 
two of which yet remain. The last evening before the 
interment, the bier rested just in the triangular space 
where Parliament Street runs into the south side of Tra- 
falgar Square. On this spot rose the beautiful cross, a 
reproduction of which appears in front of the Charing 
Cross railway-station. The original cross, after many 
long years, was torn down by those terrible fellows, the 
Puritans, whose plain, black dress is the dress of the 
gentleman of to-day, and whose main principles are the 
principles of the Evangelical world. Those dreadful 
Puritans, together with Cromwell's horses, are, in the 
.mind of the average verger and of average English 
church-people, responsible for half the mutilations of 
beautiful things in the realm. The spot is marked now 
by no other stone but the paving-stones, and it is an 
instance of the curious jumble of things in this dis- 



LONDON AROUND CRAVEN STREET. 31 

ordered world that the spot where the remains of the 
gentle queen reposed that night was afterward dyed 
with the blood of the regicides executed there. 

Just beyond Charing Cross, down toward the river, 
stands all that remains of the once magnificent York 
House, where Lord Bacon was born and where he died — 
namely, the beautiful ""Watergate," designed by Inigo 
Jones for " Steenie," the favorite of James I. Over 
the threshold of that gate troops of gay feet have stepped 
for a merry evening in the moonlight upon the Thames, 
when the Thames was at once the Broadway, the plaza, 
the great thoroughfare and pleasure promenade of Lon- 
don. Now, a broad strip of park and. " embankment" 
intervene between the Watergate and the water. 

A little farther on is what is left of the sumptuous 
" Savoy Palace," where John of Gaunt lived, and out 
of which Wat Tyler chased him ; where Chaucer was 
married, and where the Savoy Conference was held be- 
tween twelve bishops and twelve Nonconformist divines, 
Richard Baxter among them. All that now remains is 
a rpiiet little chapel housed in by commerce — the 
Thames on one side, the Strand on the other. 

To find the London of the Romans, we are told that 
we must take our spade and dig fifteen feet through the 
present London stratum. This we declined to do ; but 
we went along the Strand to Strand Lane, a street about 
six feet wide, and down the winding declivities of 
Strand Lane till we came to a large rusty iron gate on 
the left, and then through it and down a flight of stairs — 
perhaps fifteen feet, and there we found a remarkable 
and genuine relic of the London of the Romans — in an 
arched room, a Roman bath-tub twelve feet long, surely 
long enough for the tallest of the Romans, six feet wide, 
and sparkling with crystal water from an overflowing 



32 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

spring. If Julius Caesar did not bathe in tin's tub, per- 
haps Constantine did, and if neither of them, it was 
certainly not because they did not sometimes need a 
bath. 

In the other direction from us in Craven Street is 

TRAFALGAR SQUARE, 

with its monuments and fountains and its rarely hushed 
thunder of " 'bus" and cab, cart and carriage. Be- 
yond is 

WHITEHALL. 

"Kingdoms shrink to provinces," and the great 
"Whitehall Palace, the glory of Wolsey with his household 
of eight hundred persons ; Whitehall, where Henry 
VIII. lived and died, where Cromwell and Milton (his 
great secretary) lived, and Cromwell died, and wdience 
James II. scampered at the coming of William of Orange, 
and where William and Mary lived ; vast Whitehall has 
shrunk to the dimensions of a single edifice — the Ban- 
queting Hall. The reader of history cannot without 
profound interest look upon the scene of transactions 
varying from wildest midnight revelries to grimmest 
tragedy. One day a platform reaching to the windows 
of the second story stood above the pavement in front 
of that building ; on the platform stood an executioner, 
axe in hand, beside a block ; dense masses of people 
packed the street on either hand, and from that window 
a king stepped upon the platform, laid his head upon 
the block, and the axe was lifted in the air, descended, 
and the head of the king rolled upon the floor, at the 
news of which all the despots of Europe fell into a par- 
oxysm of indignation and rage. Plebeian blood they 
could shed by pailfuls, but whatever might be the con- 



LONDON FROM ALOFT. 33 

duct of a king, to shed his blood was the crime of crimes. 
The Banqueting House is now a chapel. 

It is not without significance that while all that was 
secular in both the great palaces — the Savoy on the one 
hand and Whitehall on the other — has disappeared, the 
sacred portions of each remains. The sounds of gay, 
wild revelry with which those halls so often and so long 
resounded have died into everlasting silence, while 
Sabbath after Sabbath, and we believe many times dur- 
ing the week, the Holy Scriptures are read and the 
praises of Christ the Lord are sung. And when all the 
voices of sin in the wide world shall have been hushed, 
every plain and valley will echo with the song, " The 
kingdoms and dominions of this world are become the 
kingdom and dominion of our Lord and His Christ." 



LONDON FROM ALOFT. 

Finding ourselves in King William Street, near " The 
Monument," its base just 202 feet distant from the spot 
where the great fire in 1060, which it commemorates, 
originated, and its top with its vase of gilded flame just 
202 feet above the base, an ambitious impulse to rise 
in the world came over us, and we arose. Counting off 
eleven of the steps as we went up, and reflecting that 
after just 300 more we should be at the top, we took 
courage, and with " Excelsior " for our motto, and with 
many a puff and many a pause, we went forward, and in 
due time our feet stood on the dizzy platform so far up 
toward the stars. The atmosphere was exceptionally 



84 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

free from haze and smoke ; that is to say, the visible 
area, rimmed in by an impenetrable horizon of bituminous 
vapor, was larger than usual, and reasonably large. 

In early September, 166G, the scene below us was 
very different from that which now meets the eye. A 
spectator of that day wrote : " All the sky was of a fiery 
aspect, like the top of a burning ocean, and the light 
seen for above forty miles roundabout for many nights ; 
above ten thousand houses all in one flame — the thunder 
of the flame, shrieking of women and children, hurry of 
people, fall of houses, towers and churches, the smoke 
reaching fifty miles." The flames left in ashes a space 
two miles long, one mile wide, more than thirteen thou- 
sand dwellings and eighty-nine churches. A poor 
Frenchman confessed to having kindled the great fire, 
and was hung for it. It was then ascertained that he 
was crazy, and had not reached England till after the 
great disaster. 

The lire broke out in Pudding Lane, and was arrested 
at Pie Corner. We suppose it must have consumed on 
its way Roast Beef Alley, Sausage Square, and Mutton 
Chop Avenue. The wits of London said that the fire 
was sent upon the city as a judgment for gluttony. 

The top of the monument is well caged in with iron 
bars, made necessary by the crazy fancy of people to 
commit suicide by leaping from it. A. sixpence drew 
from the keeper at the top an eloquent exposition of the 
scene below. Many an object, however, spoke for itself ; 
for example, 

THE RIVER THAMES. 

It winds along under our eye, on its way past Chelsea, 
where Carlyle in bronze, from his bronze chair, with his 
grim bronze scowl, is ever saying, " London, four mill- 



LONDON FROM ALOFT. 35 

ions of people, mostly fools !" on to and past Lime- 
lionse Reach and the Isle of Dogs, in its course looking 
in the face every point of the compass. Not only is 
this noted river many-bridged, but very much abridged. 
We can hardly conceive of it, as in other days it wan- 
dered at its own sweet capricious will, filling a depression 
all around the present site of Westminster Abbey, mak- 
ing that site an island, " Thorny Island," accessible only 
by boat ; washing also the walls of Lambeth Palace, and 
furnishing the waters beneath it that received the bodies 
of victims dropped by ecclesiastical oppression and mur- 
der through that hole in the floor of the prison in the 
Lollard's Tower, making the Strand in reality a strand. 
The Thames has been called the Mother of London. It 
was the Thames, at this point the head of heavy naviga- 
tion, that determined the site of London, and the Thames 
has fattened London with the traffic of the world. For 
long it was the one thoroughfare of the city, and the 
Thames watermen were the "'bus" men, the cab- men, 
the hack-men of the city, and when the spirit of innova- 
tion, to which the world owes so much of its weal and so 
much of its ill, invented the hackney coach, the water- 
men almost rose in armed rebellion at the outrage. 

To-day the Thames, wharfed and docked and walled 
in with massive "embankments," is one of the great 
gateways of the world. There lie at anchor discharging 
cargoes, vessels wdiose keels have cut the waters of all the 
oceans accessible to the commerce of the planet. There 
fly the flags of all nations, and there ply vessels of every 
size and character. There go those river " 'buses," 
that for twopence or threepence will land you in a very 
short time at any of a dozen spots between Putney and 
the Thames Tunnel. 

There, too, was London Bridge, alive from end to end 



36 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

with creeping tilings. At our distance from and above 
them, those creeping things might be mice in multitudi- 
nous migration, or mice following to their doom some 
pied piper of London, or following to his doom some 
heartless Archbishop Ilatto in his tower on the Thames. 

Beneath us, too, lay savory Billingsgate of scaly rep- 
utation. On this spot fishes — not the same ones all this 
time — have been bought and sold for over five hundred 
years, so that Billingsgate eels have had ample time to 
get used to being skinned. One considerable advantage 
in inspecting this piscatory mart from the top of the 
monument is the fact that you can do so without offence 
to ears or nostrils, not to mention the additional ad- 
vantage that you are beyond the reach of lady fingers, 
which, fresh from dissecting their scaly victims, are 
sometimes apt to leave unpleasant marks upon one's 
broadcloth. A London minister, one of the Bicker- 
steths, on his way to a meeting of his brethren, was 
driven by one of London's familiar downpourings into 
Billingsgate for temporary shelter. Having endured the 
outrages upon his ears from the tongues of the fisliwomen 
as long as endurance seemed to be virtuous, he said to 
one of the grossest of the offenders, " Remember, I will 
witness against you at the judgment." " Of course 
you will," was the prompt reply ; " the greatest scoun- 
drels always turn State's evidence." When this was re- 
lated at the meeting, the question was asked " How did 
you answer the woman ?" The reply was " How could 
I?" 

And there, too, not far away, stands 

THE TOWER. 

Our youthful country, where nothing is old but the 
earth and the sky, sometimes heaves a sentimental sigh 



LONDON" FROM ALOFT. 37 

at her lack of castles and towers, hoary with centuries and 
hiding memories of wild romance or fierce tragedy in 
every chink and cranny of their time-shaken walls, 
toppling battlements, and moss-grown arches. Better, 
however, such sighs than those that reach our ears from 
whole troops of despairing souls, as, thrust into those 
jaws of doom, they pine away in dreary waiting, or die 
by inches in their solitude, or by hired assassins, as Clar- 
ence and the .young princes, or come forth to that bloody 
block on Tower Hill ! Our country misses the halo 
of romance, but it misses also ages of cruelty and 
crime. What a procession of pale forms 1 see, gliding 
in under the grim portcullis of that Traitor's Gate, 
among them poor Anne Boleyn, hurried hither from the 
midst of a tournament, and Lady Jane Grey, Raleigh, and 
Essex ! In that old prison Anne Askew was broken on 
the rack before she was burned at Smithfleld. And what 
weary languishing the angels have pitied within the walls 
of that Beauchamp Tower ! Within that Central Keep, 
kings, queens, and princes have been put to death, and 
out of those gates to Tower Hill dukes and earls and 
nobles of every grade have been dragged to be slain. 

But not all the scenes witnessed by the stones in those 
old walls have been of gloomy hue. It has been a 
palace as well as a dungeon. Kings have lived there, 
ladies have danced there, and courtiers have there oft 
" crooked the pregnant hinges of the knee." If Eliza- 
beth was forced in anguish through the awful Traitor's 
Gate, stamping her passionate foot, and exclaiming, " I 
am no traitor !" issuing thence for the grand coronation 
pageant, she lifted her voice in a loud thanksgiving to 
God for His protection during the days of her peril, 
and for bringing her to that happy hour. From the 
Tower for a h>ng historic period, the coronation proces- 



33 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

sions of the kings set out for Westminster Abbey, where, 
sitting in that memorable coronation chair, the golden, 
liehly-gemmed symbol of dominion was set upon the 
head. 

In the middle of the Tower court we saw a gravelled 
spot, where they say the grass has refused to grow ever 
since the ground was wet with the blood that flowed 
down through the chinks in the scaffold at the execution 
there of Anne Boleyn, the aged Countess of Salisbury, 
Queen Catherine Howard, and the pure and godly Lady 
Jane Grey. 

" GOD MOVES IN A MYSTERIOUS WAY." 

From our pinnacle at the top of the monument we 
look down also upon the Custom House Wharf. After- 
ward we made our way to the spot and recalled the 
strange scene of so many years ago. One afternoon a 
pale, nervous man emerged from one of the narrow lanes 
upon the wharf. He looked anxiously around, bat 
seeing a porter seated upon some goods, and now look- 
ing at him, he hesitated, turned away, and disappeared. 
That man, acting so strangely, was the poet Cowper, who 
passed so much of his life, as Macaulay writes, " musing 
and rhyming among the water-lilies of the Ouse." The 
sensitive, suffering poet was at this time laboring under 
a depression of spirit that amounted to temporary 
mental aberration. He had come down to the wharf to 
drown himself, but seeing the porter there, he turned 
away. He himself tells the strange story : " Not know- 
ing where to poison myself, I resolved upon drowning. 
For that purpose I took a coach and ordered the man to 
drive to Tower Wharf, intending to throw myself into 
the river from the Custom House Quay. I left the coach 
upon the Tower Wharf, intending never to return to it ; 



LONDON PROM ALOFT. 39 

but, upon coming to the quay I found the water low, and 
a porter seated upon some goods there as if on purpose to 
prevent me. This passage to the bottomless pit being 
mercifully shut against me, 1 turned back to the coach." 
When he came to himself he took his musical pen and 
wrote : 

" God moves in a mysterious way 
His wonders to perform ; 
He plants His footsteps in the sea, 
And rides upon the storm," etc. 

Yonder, straight out from the river, up Grace Church 
Street, northward, we see 

CROSBY HALL. 

Only once during our sojourn in the dominions of the 
Guelph Queen did we dine in a palace, and this not by invi- 
tation from her most gracious Majesty. Indeed, it was 
at our own invitation, and at our own expense. It was 
in Crosby Hall, which stands on the right of Bishopsgate 
Street just as you pass into it from Threadneedle Street. 
The dinner was spread in the Great Hall, beneath the 
splendid oaken roof with its profusion of finely carved 
arches, braces, shafts, and pendants, which had looked 
down upon the White Rose of York just as it was about 
to be blended with the Red Eose of Lancaster, and 
which had echoed with the voices of lords and ladies, 
princes and princesses in gayest festivity, and also with 
the voices of councils planning and plotting for a crown. 
Our fellow guests were very numerous. A dozen or 
more tables were filled with them ; and servants ran to 
and fro, prompt to answer every call. The hall is more 
than fifty feet long and nearly thirty wide. Near it is 
the " Council Chamber," and over it the Throne Room. 
The exterior of the building with its lath and plaster 



40 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

front is said to be the most beautiful specimen of the 
domestic architecture of the times in which it was built 
now remaining in London. It is now a restaurant. 

This house was built a little over four hundred years 
ago by Sir John Crosby, Grocer and Woolman. In 
1-170 it was bought by Richard, Duke of Gloucester, and 
here he dwelt while he was Protector of England, and 
while " Edward V., by the grace of God, King of Eng- 
land and France and Lord of Ireland, ruled by the ad- 
vice of our most entirely beloved uncle, the Duke of 
Gloucester, Protector and Defender of this our realm of 
England during our young age." 

The beauties of the hall must have been in no small 
degree enhanced in the way of contrast by the presence 
of the duke, so soon to become Richard III., if Shake- 
speare has fairly reported his own description of his per- 
sonal graces : 

*' I that am rudely stamped and want love's majesty, 
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, 
Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time 
Into this breathing world scarce half made up, 
And that so lamely and unfashionable 
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them." 

To the freshly widowed Anne he said : 

"Please thee leave these sad designs 
And presently repair to Crosby Place." 

And to the executioners of Clarence : 

'' When you have done, repair to Crosby Place, 
But, sirs, be sudden in the execution." 

It was from this Place that he went to the Council in 
the Tower on that memorable June Friday, where he 
froze the blood of the company by showing his shrivelled 
arm as the work of witchcraft, then smote the table call- 



LONDON FttOM ALOFT. 41 

ing in his soldiers who hove Hastings off to instant execu- 
tion. It was in Crosby Place also that he planned the 
butchery of the princes in the Tower. Crosby Hall 
was for a time the residence of Sir Thomas More, in 
many respects one of the most estimable of men, an ele- 
gant writer, and yet, in his reply to Luther, he threw out 
" the greatest heap of nasty language that perhaps was 
ever put together, and accpiired the reputation of having 
the best knack of any man in Europe at calling bad 
names in good Latin." In his " Utopia" he advocated 
toleration, while, however, he was not free from the then 
universal vice of persecution. Here the Great Duke of 
Sully, ambassador of Henry IV., of France, was enter- 
tained, and in this very hall he was actor in a memo- 
rable scene. Having information that one of his attend- 
ants had murdered an English merchant, he called all of 
them together, ranged them against the wall, and then 
with a lighted flambeau walked up to each in turn, and 
scrutinized their faces. The trembling and livid paleness 
of the Sieur de Combaut showed him to be the sinner, 
whom he ordered to instant execution, and nothing but 
the earnest intercession of the mayor saved the life of 
the culprit. 

During the four hundred years of its history this 
Crosby Place has passed through a world of vicissitudes. 
It has been an auction-room, a literary institution, and 
a wine-store. For a considerable time, however, it 
was redeemed from its secularities by becoming a 
place for Presbyterian worship. Some touches of 
romance could hardly fail to mingle with the scenes of 
an edifice so notable during the passage of more than 
twelve generations. Sir John Spencer, who bought the 
Place in 1594, had a beautiful daughter Elizabeth, then 
the greatest heiress in England. Her beauty, not to say 



42 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

her wealth, arrested the attention and engaged the affec- 
tion of the young Earl of Northampton. The earl 
became so passionately fond of the beautiful heiress that 
he loved the very ground she stood on and the very 
house she occupied. Sir John disapproved of him, but 
Elizabeth did not. One day Sir John saw a baker boy 
at the foot of the staircase with his barrow and gave him 
a sixpence, only afterward to discover that the baker boy 
was the earl in disguise and that the supply of bread in 
the barrow was the beautiful Elizabeth. When he found 
how he had been taken in, he said, with the rough em- 
phasis of those times, that that sixpence was the last the 
couple would ever get from him. But one day, a year or 
so after, Qneen Elizabeth asked Sir John to come and be 
" gossip " to a new-born baby in which she took a deep 
interest, and lo, the baby was the child of his daughter ! 
The little thing proved too much for Sir John's wrath, 
and the earl, after all, got both the bride and the cash. 

A letter from the young wife to her husband shows 
that she knew, as is sometimes the case with women, what 
a fortune was good for. She writes, " My Sweet Life : 
I pray you to grant me £2600 to be quarterly paid ; 
£600 for charitable works ; three horses and two gentle- 
men, and two coaches with fine horses, one lined with 
velvet, and four very fine horses and a coach for my 
women, lined with cloth and laced with gold ; and twenty 
gowns of apparel, six of them excellent good ones, and 
£6000 to buy me jewels and £4000 to buy me a pearl 
chain," and so on. So she proved in more senses than 
one to be a very dear wife. 

great st. Helen's. 

Almost under the shadow of Crosby Hall, in a secluded 
nook, as cpaiet as if a wilderness lay around it, instead of 



LONDON FHOil ALOFT. 43 

those encircling tide-currents of noisy life, is the small 
church of Great St. Helen's. Going out of Crosby Hall 
we essayed to enter the little churchyard that incloses it on 
its western and southern sides, but the gate was locked. 
Finding an opening in the fence, we crawled through 
into the churchyard, and threading our way among 
the tombs approached the west door, over which was an 
inscription which reads: "This is none other than the 
house of God." From that we went round to the other 
on the south side, " the handsome Jacobean door," hop- 
ing for an opening wide enough at least to admit a per- 
son anything but portly, but neither was there here a 
crevice large enough for the entrance of anything of 
broader dimensions than those of a ghost. At length, on 
inquiry, a gentleman informed us where the portress 
dwelt, and in due time we unearthed her in one of the 
narrowest of lanes, and then we two marched in proces- 
sion to the Jacobean door. The good woman was very 
communicative, and from the positiveness of her informa- 
tion she seemed to have been present at all the events, 
funereal and other, that had broken the silence in those 
hallowed precincts for the last six hundred and fifty 
years. One among the many excellent virtues of these 
guides, male and female, is that there are no ifs or per- 
adventures in their statements. They tell yon right up 
and down that this is so, and all you have to do is to 
accept their statements, and yon are at once relieved 
from doubt and saved from all trouble of further in- 
quiry. For example, our guide took us down the steps 
into that part of the church called the Chapel of the 
Virgin, and showed ns the very altar-table, a large table 
of dark marble, where Richard III., after he had 
smothered the princes in the Tower, on his knees, with 
tears of contrition confessed his guilt in that atrocity and 



44 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

received absolution, to go thence refreshed and ready 
for any other piece of villainy that promised reasonable 
compensation. 

Among the tombs we looked at with peculiar interest 
was that of the builder of Crosby Hall. Upon a finely 
carved and pillared tomb, some three feet high, lie the 
figures of Sir John Crosby and his wife Anneys ; the lady 
wearing a head-dress that shows what astonishing freaks 
woman sometimes performs with her " dome of thought 
and palace of the soul," and Sir John wrapped in his 
alderman's mantle over plate armor and a collar of the 
suns and roses of York. Another tomb attracting 
attention is that of Sir John Spencer, of Crosby Hall 
memory. On an alabaster support and under a double 
canopy lie the figures of Sir John and Alicia his wife, 
and the figure of their beautiful daughter kneeling at 
their feet. The tomb was erected by the Earl of North- 
ampton, the son-in-law of Sir John. Among the many 
curiosities of this old church is the huge tomb of Francis 
Bancroft, who, though he was so unpopular as a city 
magistrate that at his death the people made the city 
bells ring out exultant peals, and at his funeral the 
mob tried to tumble his coffin off the hearse, left a large 
estate to keep his tomb in repair forever. He also gave 
orders that for a hundred years a loaf of bread and a 
bottle of wine should be placed in his grave on every 
anniversary of his death, being fully persuaded that 
before the century should expire he would come to life, 
and, of course, having fasted so long would require some 
refreshments when he waked. The tomb is the property 
of the Draper's Company, and each new master of the 
company, on his appointment, is expected to pay a visit to 
the occupant, and arrangement is made for this ceremony 
in the construction of the tomb. A door admits the 



LONDON FROM ALOFT. 45 

visitor, and the coffin-lid turns back, disclosing to the eye 
what remains there of Francis Bancroft. It is evident 
that this gentleman had very lofty ideas as to the space 
filled in the world by his majestic self. 

A family of Black Nuns long ago occupied a priory 
connected with the church, and in the walls between the 
two edifices is a stone grating, between the bars of which 
the nuns might peep, or perhaps the sounds of the ser- 
vices in the church might reach their ears. That they 
were very demure and devout, as nuns always are, seems 
to be intimated by the injunction of the Dean and Chap- 
ter of St. Paul's as follows :" We enjoin you that all 
daunsying and revelling be utterly forborne among you 
except at Christmasse and all other honest tymes of 
recreacyone among yourselfe usyd in absence of seculars 
in alle wyse." 

The visitor may spend hours among the curious old 
tombs and monuments of this " Westminster Abbey for 
the City," as Mr. Rare styles this old church. 

To the north and west of Crosby Hall we find Bunhill 
Fields, the Campe Santo of the Dissenters, where, on his 
back in marble, reposes the form of the in more senses 
than one immortal author of the " Pilgrim's Progress," 
and not very far thence Smithheld, smoky enough now, 
but in other days, especially in the days of Mary the 
Bloody, ablaze with hundreds of martyr lires. 

Nearer by to the westward, and not very far off, shoul- 
dering up the mass of smoke that for two hundred years 
has been at work to do its surface into ebony, and 
not altogether without success, is the great dome of 
St. Paul's — St. Paul's grandly impressive without, but 
drearily barn-like within. Beneath that dome Sir Chris- 
topher Wren being dead yet speaketh to the passer-by : 
(t Si monument um reqiiiris circu inspire.'" 



4«J ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

And away beyond St. Paul's, the British Museum, 
where we had seen the Book of Prayers written with 
exquisite neatness by Elizabeth's own hand when she was 
yet but a princess, with greater likelihood of losing her 
head than of ever feeling a crown upon it ; we saw also one 
of the four extant autographs of one William Shakespear, 
appended to a mortgage of a house in Blackfriars, for 
which autograph $1500 were paid ; and the original Bull 
of the Pope accepting England as a gift from King John, 
with the leaden bulla attached, upon one side of which 
are the faces — not photographs — -of Peter and Paul, and 
on the document the names of several cardinals, each 
name preceded by a cross and followed by a private 
mark, which looks very much like a centipede rampant ; 
also the original paper, or rather parchment, presented 
to King John by the knights at Runnymede with their 
demands ; and last, but not least, the original copy of 
the Magna Charta, carefully framed, but sadly defaced 
by the fire in the Royal Library at Westminster in 1731. 
Far off yonder, west of Buckingham Palace, is 

HOLLAND HOUSE. 

One of those inalienable rights which the American 
prizes so highly is that of the pursuit of happiness. 
» This right he carries abroad with him, and as a tourist it 
is no small part of his happiness to see things ad libitum. 
Having read so much about Holland House, we deter- 
mined to see it, and we did. This celebrated mansion sits 
in ma jesty on a spot about two miles beyond Buckingham 
Palace. Externally, it is anything but a gem of architect- 
ure, being built of red brick and stone ; but, as Sir 
Walter Scott writes, it resembles many respectable 
matrons who, having been absolutely ugly during youth, 
acquire by age an air of dignity. It was built in 1G07 



LONDON FROM ALOFT. 47 

for Sir Walter Cope, whose daughter married Henry 
Rich, created by James 1. Earl of Holland. In 1759 it 
came into possession of Henry Fox, Baron Holland, and 
father of Charles James Fox. Encompassing the House 
are those celebrated gardens ; a raised terrace, flower gar- 
den, arches festooned with creepers, a miniature Dutch 
garden, neat arbors, the Green Lane — once the home of 
hares and pheasants. It was in these gardens that the 
■first dahlias grew that ever showed their bright faces in 
England, raised from seed brought by Lady Holland from 
Spain, and named after Dr. Andrew Dahl, a Swedish 
botanist. Nor are those grounds wanting in reminis- 
cences of tragedy and romance. There, some colonel 
killed some lord in a duel, and there the beautiful Lady 
Diana Rich, daughter of the Earl of Holland, walking 
one day about eleven o'clock, being in perfect health, 
saw herself, every article of her attire complete as in a 
looking-glass, and not long after died ! 

Even in imperial London no other house ever acquired 
a fame so extended and glowing, nor was one ever graced 
by the presence of so many celebrities in literature, 
diplomacy, statesmanship, art, science, and in princely 
wealth. In this house William Perm lived for a time, 
and here Sydney Smith had apartments. Among other 
guests welcomed and feasted here were such men as 
Sheridan, Byron, Brougham, Lyndhurst, Sir Humphry 
Davy, Count Rumford, Washington Irving, Talleyrand, 
Tom Moore, Madame do Stael, and Macaulay. Here 
Addison died, saying with almost his last breath to the 
young, wild, godless Earl of Warwick, "1 have sent 
for you that you may see how a Christian can die." 
Those red brick walls inclose vast treasures of literature 
and art ; portraits of celebrated men and women, of 
Addison, Franklin, John Locke, Charles James Fox ; 



48 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

pictures by Hogarth, by Watts, and by Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds. One of the rooms, too, is haunted. There at 
certain times appears the ghost of the first Earl of Holland 
carrying his head in his hand. This is certainly a more 
convenient method of carrying about such an object than 
that adopted by the Irishman who carried his head in 
his mouth. 

Now, why an American should not walk through those 
grounds and stroll through those halls, we could not im- 
agine. So, taking a cab, we drove through the thronged 
streets, and finding the gate open drove in, but not far 
before the hand of the liveried gate-keeper was at our 
horse's head and we were brought to a dead halt. What 
did this mean, we asked, and we did not have to wait 
long for a reply. The officer informed us that no one 
was permitted to enter there without a permit from her 
ladyship. A more thoroughly astonished man than this 
man at this specimen of American impudence we never 
saw. I suspect he has hardly yet fully recovered from 
his indignant amazement. And this was all we saw of 
Holland House! 

But what can the nib of a pen do with such a theme 
as London ? London, in her veins the blood and on 
her sandals and garments the dust of fifty generations ; 
London, that has throbbed with the life of men and wom- 
en that for number, intellectual endowment, achieve- 
ment in every sphere of human action and of moral 
worth, unequalled elsewhere in history thus far ; Lon- 
don, that to-day houses more human life than Denmark, 
than Switzerland, almost more than Scotland ! 



A STRIKING CONIllAST IN LONDON. 49 



A STRIKING CONTRAST IN LONDON. 

One afternoon we were in the House of Lords, which 
was all aglow with the glory of carving, gilding, and 
fresco ; pictures of the baptism of Ethelbert, King of 
Kent ; of Edward III. conferring the Garter on the 
Black Prince ; of the death of Nelson ; a fine statue of 
the Queen ; stained-glass windows filled with portraits of 
kings and queens ; sumptuous with soft scarlet cushions, 
and august with the presence of the Prince of Wales, 
the heir to the throne, and of more than four hundred 
of England's aristocracy ; the narrow gallery on each side 
lined with the wives and daughters of the noble peers. 
At one end of the hall stood (they are not allowed to sit) 
a considerable number of members of the House of Com- 
mons. The excitement over the Franchise bill is high, 
and hourly rising. Lord Wemys introduced his com- 
promise measure, and urged it with warmth and force. 
He was followed by the Earl of Shaftesbury in a speech 
which showed profound anxiety as to the consequences 
to be apprehended from the position taken by the Lords. 
Others followed, and Lord Salisbury sealed the fate of 
the proposal of Lord Wemys, and the division showed a 
heavy majority against it. 

The evening finds us in a poorly furnished, bare- 
benched, not pleasantly perfumed hall in Oxford Street, 
near Regent Street. The assembly consists of working- 
men of a very humble class with their families ; young 
men, young women, a considerable number of children. 
We are at one of the quarters, if not the headquarters, 
of the Salvation Army. On a platform are nearly a 
hundred people, some of the men in red flannel shirts, 



50 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

several of the women with tambourines — capable, as 
we found, of making themselves heard with ear-piercing 
emphasis. The leader, a subordinate of General Booth, 
is calling for "testimony." One rises and says, "In 
my Father's house are many mansions," and sits down. 
" Hallelujah !" exclaims the leader, and the tambourines 
jingle and the company breaks out in thundering song : 
" I'm but a stranger here ; heaven is my home. " " Now, 
brother, sister, go on." Another rises and says, "We 
know that we have passed from death unto life, because 
we love the brethren." "Hallelujah!" exclaims the 
leader, as he swings his long arms and sways his body to 
and fro, and the tambourines jingle, and the company 
breaks out into song, emphasizing the sentiment. This 
went on for the best part of an hour. 

Nothing is easier than to draw a picture of this scene 
to the utter discredit of the whole movement. A taste 
less than fastidious and a temper quite this side of queru- 
lous might easily take offence at what would seem the 
coarse familiarity of thought with sacred things, of 
tongue with sacred names and phrases ; irreverence in 
prayer ; homely, passionate energy of exhortation, and 
boisterousness of exultation at the announcement of a 
fresh conversion. 

But, in the first place, no unprejudiced mind could fail 
to recognize a hearty, Christian, joyous sincerity in all. 
The singing, the Scriptures quoted, Scriptures in almost 
every instance the evangelical marrow of the Holy Word, 
the exclamations, were all the evident expressions of 
genuine gladness of heart, a gladness all the richer for 
being a rarity in their experiences. They were the 
outbursts of feeling from minds and hearts held down 
for the most part by the drudgeries of life, now set free 
for a time from those drudgeries, and enjoying glimpses 



A STRIKING CONTRAST IN LONDON. 51 

of the inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
fadeth not away. 

Then it must be borne in mind that the class of people 
reached by the Salvationists is reached, and we had 
almost said reachable, by no other Christian agency. 
Between this class and the Church of England there is 
a gulf that is impassable. Those hard-working, ill-clad, 
and many of them ill-fed men and women, boys and 
girls, cannot be brought to sit through seventy minutes 
of intoned reading of Scriptures and prayers and sermons 
entirely beyond their comprehension. Nor do the min- f 
istrations of Dr. Taylor, or Mr. Spurgeon, or Newman 
Hall, meet them on the level of their life and wants. 
The bodily weariness and mental and spiritual lethargy 
of many of these people can be overcome only by excite- 
ment, and this excitement they find to the full in Gen- 
eral Booth's meetings. 

It is further to be borne in mind, that in the absence 
of the excitement furnished in these meetings through 
singing, singing hymns for the most part thoroughly 
Christian in sentiment ; through exhortation, exhortation, 
so far as we heard it, and we heard it repeatedly, as sound 
in doctrinal tone as the Shorter Catechism ; exhorta- 
tions well balanced in matter between the mercy of God 
in Christ on the one hand and the " wrath to come" 
on the other, the latter by no means unemphasized — in 
the absence of excitement through these means, excite- 
ment is sure to be sought in the gin-palace and in other 
places of disreputable carousal. As we left one of these 
meetings, we passed close at hand a glittering drinking- 
saloon, filled with men and women, young and old, under 
effective tuition for strifes and brawls in dismal homes, 
for crime and prison, or for destitution and the alms- 
house. Before placing these Salvation Army doings 



52 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

under the ban, and giving them over to reprobation, 
let those who wish well to the poor, the miserable, and 
the sinful, consider well the alternative. In multitudes 
of cases, that alternative is the excitement of the Salva- 
tion Army headquarters, or the excitements of the gin- 
palaces and other places as bad. 

Paul in a Roman prison wrote, " Some preach Christ, 
even of envy and strife ; of contention, not sincerely, 
supposing to add affliction to my bonds." 

What then ? " Christ is preached, and 1 therein do 
rejoice, yea, and will rejoice." And these Salvationists 
preach a crucified Christ, not in a way to suit a refined 
taste. What then ? Christ is preached honestly and 
fervently, and why should not all lovers of perishing 
men rejoice ? 

The truth is that forty years ago I saw in Methodist 
meetings, in the heart of the city of JSTew York, scenes 
just as far removed from what refined taste could ap- 
prove as anything we saw among this people. Certain 
of the early followers of George Fox far outdid, in 
trampling upon the proprieties, anything ascribed to the 
followers of General Booth. Indeed, it would be by no 
means surprising if it should appear that the Salva- 
tionists are beginning again the very work that the 
followers of Wesley have now got beyond, and that in 
the course of a generation this people will have taken 
a place among the acknowledged and respected powers 
of the Christian world. 

The contrast between the scene in the House of Lords 
in the afternoon and that in the quarters in the even- 
ing was very great, and yet during the evening a 
" converted infidel" was called up to tell his experience, 
and he did it in a style of thought and diction equal to 
anything we heard in the House of Lords. The man 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 53 

seemed to bo about thirty-five years old. He spoke of 
hearing Bradlaagh say, " This world is simply an anvil 
on which the devil hammers his tools into shape," and 
of being shocked with the thought that man, with his 
capacities, yearnings, and susceptibilities, should, after 
all, be but the creature of a day. " Why, then," I said, 
to myself, "should not I, without regard to anything 
but myself, without regard to law or conscience, right 
or wrong, make the most of the passing hour ? Why 
nurture yearnings for a loftier life, when my being may 
be extinguished to-morrow ? Why allow my affections 
to put forth their tendrils upon objects which to-morrow 
will be torn from them forever, and those affections 
forever neutralized V ' After much in this strain he 
told how he had been drawn to the Lamb of God, and 
how in Christ and His Gospel, with its morality, its 
rules of life, its hopes, his whole nature found its coun- 
terpart. No theme touched in the House of Lords ap- 
proached this theme in true dignity, worth, and sublim- 
ity, and no words spoken in the House of Lords that 
afternoon were superior in eloquence and pathos, in ap- 
propriateness of diction, or in style of delivery, to those 
of this London workingman in this humble hall of these 
Salvationists. 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 

From riding on the top of an omnibus through and 
out of the maelstrom of human and other life that surges 
and crashes and roars and rattles and shouts in that 
triangular space faced by the Bank, the Mansion House, 



54 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

and the Royal Exchange, and into which Cheapside and 
Cornhill, King William and Princes streets, Thread- 
needle, Lombard, and other streets perpetually disgorge 
their crush of crowds, and entanglement of 'bus, carriage, 
cab, cart, and other London vehicles, human voices 
adding to the din, sometimes in threatening caveat, 
sometimes in harsh profanity, and sometimes in the 
annihilating sarcasm of the lordly " 'busman" to the 
plebeian driver of an impeding cab or cart : " Now, 
then ! Yen did you come in from the kentry !" — from 
and out of all this through Cannon Street, Ludgate Hill, 
Fleet Street, and Strand, we went to Westminstei 
Abbey, and at once seemed to have passed to a scene 
hundreds of miles from all the bustle and strife of man. 
It is very strange, this isle of rest and silence in the 
very heart of that great world of noise and action. On 
one side the Thames, with its restless tide of river craft ; 
on the other the earth-shaking roll of vehicles thunder- 
ing to and from Hyde Park ; not far away Trafalgai 
S<]uare and Charing Cross ; and near at hand the 
"Hear! hear!" of "Honorable (Tentlemen" and 
"Noble Lords" as they applaud a favorite orator — all 
these billows and breakers of noisy commotion dying into 
silence around the walls of this massive, venerable 
minster ! 

The impression produced upon the mind by the grand 
exterior of this superb edifice, with its buttresses, in- 
dented with statued recesses ; its pinnacles and flying 
buttresses ; its walls blackened with the soot of ages, 
and gnawed into partial dilapidation by the tooth of 
Time, is at first entrance rather rudely disturbed by the 
suspicion that you have lost your way, and come into, if 
not a sculptor's studio, at least into a sculpture exhibi- 
tion hall. The sculpture is much of it no doubt very 



"WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 55 

fine, much of it very grand ; but then you do not come 
to this miracle of Gothic glory to see statuary ; and be- 
neath that far-off ceiling and the countless branches into 
which the pillars of this stone forest divide themselves, 
to spread in curves so graceful and unite so naturally in 
knots and groins, you feel that the Moses of Michael 
Angolo were almost an impertinence. If, however, 
man is God's greatest terrestrial work, and if great men 
are among God's best gifts to mankind, there would 
seem to be an obvious fitness in the custom that gives 
the bones of the great and good a final resting-place 
within the walls of temples dedicated to His worship. 

And whether or not it be true that Republics are un- 
grateful, it is certain that England has been anything 
but niggardly in outlay of talent and wealth to perpetu- 
ate the names and fame of her worthies. At every turn 
you encounter the forms and features of men whose voices 
have rung in the trumpet tones of high debate, or whose 
words have flashed on the field of battle, or on the deck 
of the blazing ship of war ; or whose pens have told 
the story of science or written the deathless poem, or 
whose genius has made the canvas speak and the marble 
live ; or whose acts have told upon the industries of life ; 
or whose books and sermons have fitted men to live well 
and die in hope. Here you see the statue of George 
Peabody, there of Rowland Hill ; hereof Tyndale, there 
of Wilberforce ; and so on almost without end. Nor 
can all this be without healthful moral effect. The 
young Roman strolling among the marble Cincinnati, 
Fabii, Scipios, and the rest in the Forum, would be 
very likely to question with himself what modes of life 
and conduct would secure for him like honorable recog- 
nition. And the member of the House of Commons, on 
his way, day by clay, to his seat, passing through St. 



56 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

Stephen's Hall and seeing the forms of Chatham and 
Pitt, Burke, Fox, and Grattan, and the rest, must feel 
that that Legislature is no place for pygmies. And thus 
to give place to the ashes and the marble and bronze 
memorials of the great in the precincts of abbey and 
cathedral, hallowed by ceremonial consecration, and by 
centuries of religious worship, is at once to take the best 
security for the permanence of those memorials, to offer 
the highest public reward for faithful service, and to 
hold out a most effective stimulus to lofty and laudable 
ambition. 

It may argue sad lack of artistic taste or of apprecia- 
tion of essential features of ecclesiastical architecture, 
but we cannot help wishing that some good angel would 
fly away with that admirable screen that crosses the nave 
midway of its length, thus arresting the gaze and sadly 
crippling the effect of the vast sweep of lofty arch and 
long vista of massive and towering columns. Even as it 
is, we understand the feeling of the child creeping along 
down this nave by his father's side, as he exclaimed : 
" Father, how little I am !" 

THE WAXEN EFFIGIES. 

Among the curious nooks discovered by comparatively 
few tourists is a little chamber above the Islip Chapel, 
to which, ascent is gained by a very narrow, winding 
stairway. A line to the Dean of Westminster brought 
a courteous order which gained us prompt admission. 
There we saw the oak box in which the remains of Major 
Andre were brought to England. (By the way, the 
marble figure of Andre in the south aisle has had a hard 
time of it. The head has been twice knocked off and 
stolen.) But the most curious objects in the chamber 
are certain wax effigies. In the olden time it was cus- 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 57 

ternary to carry the embalmed bodies of distinguished 
persons in funeral procession with their faces uncovered. 
Afterward wax- work effigies of the deceased, dressed in 
the costume of the day, were substituted in the proces- 
sions for the original, and some of these are preserved in 
this room. There in a glass-case stands Lord Nelson, in 
the very suit (the coat excepted) that he wore when 
alive. Physically he was but a handful of a man. On 
the other hand William III., the consumptive, surprised 
us with his full, Dutch figure, though Mary his wife was 
the larger of the two. Queen Anne is of very full pro- 
portions. Charles II. blazes in red velvet ; and Queen 
Elizabeth, with a crown upon her head, struts in pro- 
fuse ruff, richly jewelled stomacher, velvet robe embroid- 
ered with gold, and pointed, high-heeled shoes. On the 
whole, we should prefer to have seen the originals alive. 
As their bodies have turned long since to dust, so the 
persistent, penetrating dust is doing its best to make 
these images look like pillars of dust. 

QUEEN ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 

At the Belfast Council the martyr Church of Bohemia 
was a conspicuous object of attention. The noble trium- 
virate of Bohemian pastors — Szalatnay, Caspar, and 
Dnsek — urged the claims of their church upon the sym- 
pathies of the Presbyterian world. At a meeting in 
their behalf we saw the great, savage sword with which, 
on June 21st, 1621, the heads of twenty-seven martyrs 
were severed from their bodies in front of the Tienkirehe 
in the city of Prague ; and also a silver communion-cup 
which, having been buried in 14-35 atlvolin, twenty miles 
from Prague, was exhumed in 1861. 

With such memories fresh in mind, one must be par- 
doned if, while tarrying in the chapel of Edward the 



CS ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

Confessor, and glancing at the memorials of the rest of 
the six kings, live queens, two princesses, a duke, and a 
bishop, that there invite his eye, he linger longer at the 
grave of Queen Anne of Bohemia. At the battle of 
Cressy in 1346, blind King John of Bohemia, with his 
crest of three ostrich feathers and his motto " Ich Dien '' 
(I serve), went down under the sword of the Black 
Prince, who assumed as his own and transmitted to his 
successors (the Princes of Wales) the crest and motto of 
the fallen king. Among those who fought, but did not 
fall, in that battle was the son of Blind John. And 
Anne of Bohemia, the daughter of that son, became the 
wife of Pichard II. of England, the son of the Black 
Prince who slew Blind John the grandfather. Queen 
Anne was a devout Christian woman, and brought with 
her to England her Bible in her own native tongue. She 
was the friend of Wy cliff e, and Wycliffe made Queen 
Anne's Bible, in the vernacular of her native country, an 
argument in favor of giving to the English people the 
"Word of God in their native tongue. There must have 
been in the person and character of Queen Anne ele- 
ments of excellence not often surpassed ; for so intense 
w T as her husband's affection for her, and so extravagant 
his grief at her death, that he caused the palace at Sheen 
(where she died) to be destroyed ! The funeral was cele- 
brated at enormous cost. The king at once had effigies 
of himself and his lamented queen made of brass, and 
placed side by side, their right hands clasped together. 
On the canopy above may be dimly seen the arms of 
Queen Anne, the two-headed eagle of the empire, and 
the lion rampant of Bohemia. 

Although in that memorable chapel we see the tomb 
of the confessor, who founded the abbey, and the tomb 
of Ilenrv III., who reconstructed it, and that celebrated 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 59 

coronation cliair with the Stone of Scono beneath the 
seat, and in which not only all the inonarchs of England 
for six hundred years have been crowned, but in which 
also Cromwell was installed as Protector, we must be 
excused if our heart warms more at the thought of that 
faithful Christian woman than at the thought of any 
other object in, or occupant of, that magnificent mauso- 
leum. 

THE JERUSALEM CHAMBER. 

In the wall on the south side of the abbey, not very 
far east of the western end, a narrow recess shows an old 
oaken door. Few, perhaps, notice it as they pass, and 
fewer still question its office. It opens into a passage 
that leads into the " Jericho Chamber." This chamber 
is a quite small room with a table in the centre, and on 
the table a blank-book in which certain names are regis- 
tered. The room and its furniture indicate the merely 
incidental and ancillary. To our question, " Why is this 
room called by the name Jericho ?" the answer was, " I 
do not know, except that it is nigh unto Jerusalem." 

From Jericho we stepped into Jerusalem — the cele- 
brated Jerusalem Chamber — so-called, it is said, from 
tapestries or pictures in it representing scenes in Jerusa- 
lem. It is projected lengthwise from the south side of 
the great parent abbey. It is a simple, rectangular 
room. It is wainscoted with cedar, and all the wood- 
work in the room is of cedar from tiie Holy Land. A 
long, broad table now occupies the middle of the room. 
One of the frescoes shows King Henry IV., who 
breathed Ins last within these walls in the year 1413. 
Worn-out and wretched with disease, and by no means 
easy in conscience, he was anxious, according to the dis- 
mal theology of the times, to atone for his sins by a cru- 
sade to Jerusalem. But one day while kneeling in the 



CO ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

chapel of Edward the Confessor he was seized with a 
final paroxysm, and borne into this chamber to die. In 
this room the body of Addison lay in state, and was 
borne thence at dead of night to its last resting-place in 
the chapel of Henry VII., the procession passing round 
the shrine of Edward the Confessor, and the choir sing- 
ing a funeral hymn. From the Jerusalem Chamber also 
the body of Sir Isaac Newton was carried to the grave, 
the pall being borne by the Lord Chancellor and by 
dukes and earls. 

But the grander and more impressive associations that 
cluster about this historic room are those born of the acts 
of the living, rather than of ministries to the dying and 
the dead. A considerable portion of the work of giving 
to the world King James's invaluable version of the 
Word of God is said to have been done in this chamber. 
The English Prayer-Book also, and that of the American 
Episcopal Church, have issued, in part at least, from the 
Jerusalem Chamber. In the same hallowed precincts 
much of the work of the New Revision has been also 
dime. Add to these facts the fact that here were held 
most of the fifteen hundred and sixty-three sessions of 
the Westminster Assembly of Divines, which gave to 
the world the famous Confession of Faith, Directory for 
Worship, and the Larger and Shorter Catechisms, and 
we see good reason why lovers of the kingdom of God, 
and, not least, lovers of our Presbyterian system of doc- 
trine and polity, should esteem it no small privilege to 
stand within the confines of the Jerusalem Chamber. 
Of that Assembly, the session of which opened in 1GI3, 
an eye-witness wrote : 

" The like of that Assemblie I did never see, and as we hear say, 
the like was never in England nor anywhere is shortlie lyke to be. 
They did sitt in Henry VII. 's Ckappell in the place of the convoca- 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 01 

tion ; but since the weather grew cold thoy did go to Jerusalem 
Chamber, a fair roome in the Abbey of Westminster. At the one 
end nearest the doore and both sydes arc stages of seats. At the 
upmost end there is a chair set on ano frame, a foot from the earth, 
for Mr. Proloqutor Dr. Twisse. Before it on the ground stands two 
chairs for the two Mr. Assessors Dr. Burgess and Mr. Whyte. Before 
these tsvo chairs, through the length of the roome, stands a table at 
which sitts the two scribes. The house is all well hung, and has a 
good fyre, which is some dainties in London. Forenent the table, 
upon the Proloqutor's right hand, there are three or four rankes of 
formes. On the lowest we five doe sit ; upon the others at our backs 
the members of Parliament deputed to the Assemblie. On the formes 
forenent us on the Proloqutor's left hand, going from the upper 
end of the house to the chimney, and at the other end of the house 
and back-syde of the table till it come about to our seats, are four 
or five stages of formes whereupon their divines sitts as they please. 
Prom the chimney to the doore there is no seats, but a void about 
the fyre." 

Standing in this room to-day wo can reproduce the 
scene, and feel ourselves fascinated with the memories 
that throng upon us. The death-scene of King Henry, 
the shrouded forms of Addison and Newton, and ail 
transactions connected with secular life vanish from our 
thoughts in the presence of this remarkable body of in- 
tellect, learning, and piety, and in view of the influence 
of their labors upon millions of human beings, in the 
formation of character, in the control of thought and of 
life, and in the salvation of souls ! Those standards em- 
body the life of that system of which Dean Stanley has 
so feebly and Froude so forcibly written. Stanley : 

" Out of these hails came the Directory, the Larger and Shorter 
Catechisms, and that famous Confession of Faith which, alone of all 
Protestant Confessions, still, in spite of its sternness and narrowness, 
retains a hold on the minds of its adherents to which its fervor and 
logical coherence in some measure entitle it." 

Froude : 

-' When all else has failed, when patriotism has covered its face and 
human courage has broken down, when emotion and sentiment and 



G2 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

tender imaginative piety have become the handmaids of superstition, 
and have dreamt themselves into forgetfulness that there is any 
difference between lies and truth, the slavish form of belief called 
Calvinism has borne an ever inflexible front to illusion and mendacity, 
and has preferred rather to be ground to powder like flint than to 
bend before violence, or melt under enervating temptation." 

On the western wall of the chamber, far up toward 
the ceiling, we see in fresco the form of George Gillespie 
in the act of offering that memorable prayer. The 
Assembly of Divines had reached the point in their de- 
liberations where it was necessary to frame an answer to 
the question, " What is God ?" Among the members 
of the Assembly was young Gillespie, one of the four 
Scotch Commissioners, brilliantly gifted and of wide 
reading, who at the age of twenty-five had become the 
author of a book that displayed both ability and erudi- 
tion, and as devout as he was gifted. It was upon him 
it is said that the call was made to lead the Assembly in 
prayer ere they proceeded to frame the answer to the 
momentous question. The opening words of that prayer 
were, " O God, infinite, eternal and unchangeable in thy 
being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and 
truth ;" and these words were taken as the best answer 
to the question under consideration that that great and 
devout Assembly could devise. 

And the whole two hundred and forty years of theo- 
logical investigation and controversy since that day have 
added nothing to those definitions of justification, adop- 
tion, sanctification, faith, repentance, and effectual call- 
ing. When believers in our day are looking forward to 
a coming celebration of the Supper of our Lord, we know 
of no better helps outside the Bible than are to be found 
in the answers to those questions given so long ago in 
the Jerusalem Chamber in Westminster Abbey. 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 63 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 

An edifice that will repay a much closer scrutiny and 
much more protracted study than it receives from the 
crowd of rushing tourists is Westminster Hall. It lies 
alongside of, parallel with, and fairly nestles into the 
embrace of the grand pile of new Parliament buildings 
on the Thames. When the time came to erect these 
new buildings, the good sense of England refused to dis- 
turb the venerable old hall, interwoven as it is with cen- 
turies of the life of the nation, and the new edifice was 
erected on the eastern side, and so constructed as to fold 
the old hall into its own bosom. There sits that hall, 
270 feet long, 74 feet wide, and 100 feet high. It now 
forms a grand passage-way to the Houses of Parliament. 

This hall was built by William the Red, the son and 
successor of William the Conqueror, but it was almost 
wholly rebuilt by Richard II., son of the Black Prince 
and husband of Queen Anne of Bohemia. The roof of 
Irish oak has for ages extorted the admiration of archi- 
tects. It is composed of massive beams carved over with 
angels, and so adjusted to each other as, without support- 
ing pillars, proudly to support both itself and the outside 
roof above it. 

Before entering let us take a look around us. On the 
edge of that sharp gable rising between those two mas- 
sive towers three human heads for a long period evoked 
the admiration and delighted the delicate taste of that 
day : on one side, the head of Ireton, the son-in-law of 
Cromwell ; on the other, the head of Bradshaw, Presi- 
dent of the High Court of Justice that tried and con- 
demned Charles I., and between them, as the greatest 



G4 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

criminal of the tlirec, the head of Oliver Cromwell. 
Many a time has this yard, north of the hall, been deco- 
rated with that old-fashioned ornament, the pillory, with 
a man seated in it, to he hooted and jeered at by the 
rabble below. For some years, every day in term-time, 
a much less offensive spectacle presented itself in the 
person of Cardinal Wolsey coming from York Palace, 
riding on his mule ; the meek animal under its gorgeous 
load fitly representing the realm of England, and its 
trappings of crimson velvet, saddle of the same precious 
stuff, and gilt stirrups representing the gaudy, magnificent 
government that in those days bestrode the patient realm. 

Entering now the great northern door, you pass south- 
ward between a row of marble statues on each hand to 
the southern end, where a grand flight of stairs lands 
you in St. Stephen's porch. Here, turning to the left 
and looking eastward, you see through a fine lofty arch- 
way St. Stephen's Hall, that leads to the lobby of the 
House of Commons. A magnificent ceiling looks down 
from above, and along its sides an array of fine statues 
presents the forms of many whom England delights to 
honor — Hampden, Chatham, Burke, Fox, and Pitt, 
whose form and features show you such a resemblance 
to Dr. John Hall, of New York, that if the statue 
should be removed thence and placed in the vestibule of 
the Fifth Avenue church, the people would take it for 
granted that their beloved pastor had stood for the 
model, and would say that the artist had achieved a 
signal success in the representation. 

From St. Stephen's porch, looking northward, yon 
obtain a fine view of the interior of Westminster Hall. 
Having been built by King Richard II., you would ex- 
pect, of course, to find his favorite device of the White 
Hart somewhere upon the walls. Nor are you disap- 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 65 

pointed. On tlie stone moulding that runs round the hall 
you see this antlered creature in many a repetition. 
Along the left western wall are the places of the passage- 
ways leading into the rooms where, for more than six 
hundred years, the great law courts of England were 
held — -the Court of Chancery, so mercilessly pelted by 
Dickens in " Bleak House," the Court of the King's 
Bench, the Court of Common Pleas, and the Court of 
Exchequer. Once these courts were held within the 
hall ; they are now removed to the great Palace of Jus- 
tice, at the junction of Fleet Street and the Strand, 
covering some eight acres of ground, where in court 
time you see law officers hurrying to and fro in their 
funny tight-curled wigs and black gowns, like bewildered 
rooks who have lost their way and are very anxious to 
find it. To make way for this great edifice old Temple 
Bar was taken down, and its site is now marked by an 
elaborate monument adorned with a statue of the Queen 
on one side and the Prince Consort on the other, and 
surmounted by a bronze griffin that reminds one of the 
ordinary representations of the Evil One, indicating, not 
members of the legal profession nor the character of the 
law, but the evils which the law and the lawyers remove. 
For many a generation the old Temple Bar used to be 
surmounted by the heads of men whom the law had 
doomed to decapitation. One day Goldsmith and Dr. 
Johnson stood gazing at those ghastly things. They had 
just come from Westminster Abbey, where, looking at 
the monuments in the Poet's Corner, Johnson had said 
to Oliver, " For 'san et nostrum nomen miscibitur istis" 
— " Perhaps our name may yet find place with these. " 
And now as they stood gazing at those heads stuck up 
on Temple Bar, Goldsmith whispered, " Forsan et nos- 
trum nomen miscibitur istis. r ' 



CG ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

On the right of the spectator as he stands in St. 
Stephen's porch, just at the foot of the stairs, is the en- 
trance to St. Stephen's crypt, almost exactly six hun- 
dred years old. It is a gem of a Gothic chapel, the carv- 
ed bosses of the ribbed roof showing the martyrdom of 
St. Stephen and of other saints. In making certain res- 
torations years ago the embalmed body of a bishop of 
the olden time was discovered, with a carved oak Epis- 
copal staff lying diagonally across his breast. The chapel 
is now being litted up as a place of worship for the peo- 
ple of the neighborhood. 

If on entering the great hall at the northern door one 
has felt a chill creep over him as from some dark spirit 
on his left hand, it was probably while passing the old 
" Star Chamber," just the other side of the wall, now, 
however, put to modern uses. The chamber derived its 
name not from any light the stars of heaven shed upon 
its terrible proceedings, but, say some, from the gilt 
stars with which the ceiling was decorated. This could 
hardly be, as it is pretty certain that the court sat in this 
chamber many long years before those stars appeared in 
that dark firmament. Green, in his " Short History," 
says that the bonds of the Jews were deposited for safety 
in a chamber of the Royal Palace at Westminster, which 
from their Hebrew names of " Starrs " gained the title 
of the Star Chamber. But whencesoever this name, the 
court that sat there, especially under the reign of the 
Tudors and the earlier Stuarts, was an engine of oppres- 
sion which made its name forever odious, and one of the 
many excellent things done by the Long Parliament was 
its final abolishment. 

One of the achievements of this notorious court was 
the punishment of the He v. Alexander Leigh ton, a Scot- 
tish divine and father of Archbishop Leighton. Dr. 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 07 

Leigliton had written a savage book or pamphlet against 
the bishops and the Queen. For this offence the Star 
Chamber had him set on a pillory in the Westminster 
yard, one of his cars cut off, one side of his nose slit, 
and one cheek branded with a hot iron, and then, one 
week after, had him whipped at Cheapside, placed again 
in the pillory, the other ear cut off, the other side of his 
nose slit, his other cheek branded. 

Excepting the Tower of London, Westminster Hall 
lias been the scene of more tragic transactions than any 
other building in London. The man who introduced 
the Maiden, the old-fashioned guillotine, into Scotland, 
little thought that the first head it would sever from the 
trunk would be his own. And while King William the 
Red was looking fondly at the erection of that hall, he 
little thought that so soon after its completion it would 
weep tears of anguish over its royal builder ! 

By a bitter irony, almost the first event of moment 
that took place in this new and magnificent edifice was 
the humiliation and dethronement of the king who built 
it, the dethronement followed at an early day by his 
death, with serious suspicion of violence. Henry of 
Lancaster rebelled, took the king captive, and lodged 
him in the dreadful Tower. Parliament met in West- 
minster Hall. The royal chair was unoccupied. A res- 
ignation of the crown extorted from the imprisoned 
king was read : " I have been King of England about 
twenty-two years, which royalty, crown, sceptre and 
heritage I here clearly resign to my cousin, Henry of 
Lancaster, and I desire him here in this open presence, 
in entering of this same possession, to take this crown 
and sceptre." The resignation was accepted with loud 
acclamations by the people, and an act of deposition 
pronounced. Henry then came forward and said, ''In 



G8 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I, Henry 
of Lancaster, chalenge this rewme of Ynglande and the 
crown, with all the members and the appurtenances, als 
I that am descendit be right line of the blode, comying 
from the good lord King Henry therde and thro thorge 
that the right that God of his grace hath sent me with 
help of my kyn and of my frendes to recover it." The 
Archbishops of Canterbury and York then led Henry to 
the royal chair, " all the people wonderfully shouting 
for joy." It has been true of more than King Richard, 
"He heapeth up riches, and he knoweth not who shall 
gather them." 

WILLIAM WALLACE. 

"Who that read " The Scottish Chiefs " in early days 
does not remember how the young heart beat with exul- 
tation as he saw "Wallace, the patriot hero, gigantic in 
stature and gigantic in strength, leading the Scottish 
hosts at Stirling, and sweeping the field of the English 
invaders as with a besom, and thereby setting in motion 
forces that stayed not in their course till Scotland was 
free ! But as William the Silent fell under the dagger 
of the assassin, and as Abraham Lincoln and James 
Abram Garfield fell under the pistol-shot of murderers, 
so "William "Wallace fell by judicial murder, to which he 
was doomed by trial, here beneath the roof of West- 
minster Hall. Standing in St. Stephen's porch, we seem 
to see the tall, broad form of the hero as he comes in at 
the northern door and approaches the steps of the grim 
tribunal, its sentence made up before the trial began, 
crowned with a garland of oak leaves as king of outlaws, 
and arraigned as traitor to the English crown. Bound 
in fetters of iron, he had been hurried from the land 
his prowess had set free, southward to London, and 
lodged in Fenchurch Street. On the 23d of August, on 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 69 

horseback, surrounded by a crowd of guards consisting 
of the Mayor of London, sheriffs, and aldermen, he rode 
through the streets, a spectacle to the giddy populace, 
to the place of trial. At the word " traitor," he indig- 
nantly replies, "Traitor I could not be, for I was no 
subject of King Edward." Sentence of death was 
passed upon him, and he was dragged at the tails of 
horses to blood-soaked Smithfield, where his head was 
struck off, and, according to the horrible custom of the 
times, it was placed, upon a pole and set up to view on 
London Bridge. His body was cut into quarters, and 
the ghastly fragments exhibited at Newcastle, Berwick, 
Perth, and Aberdeen. London exulted, Scotland broke 
into lamentations which merged into vows of vengeance, 
vows which Bruce carried into execution. 

EVIL MAY DAY. 

" Evil May Day," in 1517, was the occasion of a 
scene in this old hall of curious, varied, and thrilling in- 
terest. A may-pole, " the great shaft of Cornhill," had 
been set up on the first of May, and profusely decked 
with boughs and garlands. Rumor went out that riot 
was intended, and "Wolsey warned the mayor and alder- 
men of the impending danger. In consequence, a proc- 
lamation ordered every one to be within doors at nine 
o'clock in the evening. Some, however, who did not 
know of the proclamation, continued their sports after 
the specified hour, and some of these an alderman at- 
tempted to arrest, when, surprised and indignant at 
what they deemed an invasion of their rights, they raised 
the well-known cry of " 'Prentices and Clubs !" Clubs 
and 'prentices soon tilled the street, and now began the 
riot in good earnest. Houses were sacked, and insurrec- 
tion ran through the city. The guns of the Tower 



70 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

thundered upon the insurgents. Armed bands assailed 
them right and left. Three hundred were arrested, 
tried, and hanged. Besides these, fonr hundred and 
eighty men and eleven women were taken and put in 
prison. And on a given day King Henry VIII., in all 
his majesty, took his seat in the royal chair at West- 
minster Hall to give judgment upon them. By and by 
the doors were thrown open, and in marched this great 
army of culprits, under strong guard, every one with a 
rope about the neck, ready for the hanging if the verdict 
went against them. But before the grim sentence was 
rendered, lo ! through the crowd three women, with 
their attendants, were seen making their way toward the 
throne. They were Queens Catherine of Aragon, wife 
of the king ; Margaret of Scotland, sister of the king ; 
and Mary of France. They approached the throne, 
kneeled at the feet of his majesty, and there for a 
long time they pleaded for the lives of those pecrple. 
What a scene ! The king in purple and gold, his court- 
iers and officers of state in all the glory of lordly osten- 
tation, and those kneeling epieens, their womanhood 
outshining their royal bloom and their queenly attire, 
their hands clasped and tears on their cheeks, and the, 
as yet, not utterly hardened monarch melting to mercy 
under the silent intercession ! At last the king relented 
and forgave them. Then Wolsey gave them a " good 
exhortation," and "all the prisoners shouted at once, 
and altogether cast up their halters into the hall-roof, so 
that the king might perceive that they were none of the 
discreetest sort." And now out of that hall rushed the 
four hundred and ninety-one persons, freed from their 
peril, back to their homes. And oh ! what millions of 
condemned ones, at the intercession of a love more ten- 
der than even that of woman, a " love stronger than 



WESTMINSTER HALL. ?] 

death, many waters cannot quench it, neither can floods 
drown it," have gone forth in the great hall of God, 
pardoned, accepted, saved ! 

THE EOYAL CULPEIT. 

On the 20th of January, 1849, the " High Court 
of Justice" sat in Westminster Hall for the trial of 
Charles Stuart upon the charge of high treason. This 
court had heen appointed by the House of Commons, 
who in the appointing act made the striking statement 
that the people, after God, are the sources of all just 
power, and that the representatives of the people are the 
supreme power in the nation, and that whatsoever is 
enacted or declared for law by the Commons in Parlia- 
ment hath the force of law. Against the wall, just 
above the heads of the court which sat at the southern 
end of the hall, was an oval escutcheon on which w T ere 
depicted the Red Cross of England and the Harp of 
Ireland. Just before and under the escutcheon sat 
Oliver Cromwell and Henry Marten. The members of 
the court sat in rows with their hats on, and in the mid- 
dle of the front row and on an elevated platform the 
Lord President Bradshaw had his seat. His chair was 
covered with crimson velvet, his person wrapped in a 
scarlet robe. A desk was before him and on it a velvet 
cushion. His head was covered by his broad-brimmed 
hat. On the right of the Lord President sat John Lyle, 
and on his left William Say, assistants to the Presi- 
dent. On the floor, before the platform, was a large 
table covered with a rich Turkey rug and on it lay 
the sword of state and the mace. The benches on 
which the members of the court sat were hung with 
scarlet. 

At the end of the table nearest the court were two 



72 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

clerks, Andrew Broughton and John Phelps, and at the 
other end of the table, facing the court, sat the king. 
At the right of the king stood three counsellors for the 
commonwealth, Coke, Dorislaus and Aske. On each 
side an array of guards connected the court with the 
boxes occupied by the king and the counsellors for the 
commonwealth, and over the heads of all floated the 
tattered banners of the cavaliers taken at the battles of 
Marston Moor and Naseby. 

The day before the court opened the king had been 
conducted from Windsor, twenty miles west of London, 
and lodged at the Palace of St. James. The next morn- 
ing he was brought in a Sedan-chair to the hall, in at 
the northern door, on toward the southern end and 
placed in his seat by the side of the counsellors for the 
commonwealth, facing the court. In silence he took his 
seat. He moved not his hat, and the members of the 
court neither removed theirs, nor rose at his entrance. 
During the trial an incident occurred trivial in itself, but 
which as the king confessed to the bishop stirred his 
spirit with a sense of dread. Leaning upon his golden- 
headed staff, perhaps in the emotions of the hour more 
heavily than he was conscious of, the head of the staff 
broke off and fell to the floor. He took it up with a 
lirm hand but with a trembling heart. To himself he 
seemed to be the golden head of the nation and the inci- 
dent he feared might be prophetic of his fall. Thirty- 
two witnesses were examined, and on the fifth day the 
king was condemned as a tyrant, traitor, murderer and 
enemy of his country. 

It was a daring thing, especially in those days, thus to 
bring a king to trial and execution ; but when we 
remember the fearful havoc kings have made with the 
rights and lives of the people, the wonder is that more of 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 73 

them have not felt the heavy hand of those they so 
sorely oppressed. 

THE CHAMPION. 

Within these walls, the great coronation banquets were 
given and enjoyed. With the miners eye we can see 
the tables filling the great space, excepting narrow pas- 
sage-ways between them, and a wide passage-way down 
the centre of the hall. From the galleries splendid 
groups of spectators watched the feast. Great was the 
clatter of tongues and dishes, loud the murmurs that 
from so many voices and so much varied action rose to 
the roof ; sumptuous the feast, deep the drinking, as the 
time rolled on. Suddenly, in the midst of the banquet, 
the blare of many trumpets rang through the hall, the 
doors at the northern end flew open and in rode the 
royal champion on a magnificently caparisoned charger 
taken from the royal stables, " the best but one " of all 
the prancers in the horse-palaces. The rider is armed 
cap-a-pie and is preceded by his spear-bearer and shield- 
bearer. Reaching the middle of the Assembly he hurls 
his mailed gauntlet upon the ground and defies to single 
combat any one who shall dare to gainsay the right of 
the monarch to the crown. Having repeated his chal- 
lenge three times, and no one taking up the gauntlet, he 
rides his charger up the hall to where the sovereign sits, 
and the sovereign pledges the champion m a cup of gold 
which is afterward sent as a present to the latter. This 
bit of old chivalric glory continued down to the corona- 
tion of King George IY., and now survives only among 
the memories that fringe the past with so many fascina- 
tions. 

WARREN HASTINGS. 

But second in stirring, even in thrilling interest to no 
other of the many transactions that combine to wreathe 



74 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

that great hall with fascinating associations, was the 
trial of Warren Hastings. None who have read Ma- 
caulay will be able to tolerate a description of this trial in 
any other words but his. Even in Macaulay, more vivid 
picturing, richer rhetoric, sentences rolling on in such 
golden tides can hardly be found. Well does he say 
that the place was worthy of such a trial — the hall 
which had resounded with acclamations at the inaugura- 
tion of thirty kings. The peers robed in gold and 
ermine were marshalled by the heralds under garter 
king-at-arms. Nearly a hundred and seventy lords walked 
in solemn order to the tribunal. The long procession 
was closed by the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal of the 
realm, by the great dignitaries, and by the brothers and 
sons of the king. Last of all came the Prince of Wales, 
conspicuous by his fine person and noble bearing. The 
gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long gal- 
leries were crowded by an audience such as has rarely 
excited the fears or the emulations of an orator. There 
were seated around the queen, the fair-haired daughter 
of the House of Brunswick. There the ambassadors of 
great kings and commonwealths gazed with admiration 
on a spectacle which no other country in the world could 
present. There Siddons, in the prime of her majestic 
beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all 
the imitations of the stage. There the historian of the 
Roman Empire thought of the days when Cicero pleaded 
against the Yerres, and when before a Senate Tacitus 
thundered against the oppressors of Africa. The spec- 
tacle had allured Reynolds from that easel which has 
preserved to us the thoughtful foreheads of so many 
writers and statesmen, the sweet smile of so many noble 
matrons. There appeared the voluptuous charms of her 
to whom the heir of the throne had in secret plighted his 



WESTMINSTER HALL. 75 

faith. There, too, was she, the beautiful mother of a 
beautiful race, the St. Cecilia, whose delicate features, 
lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from the 
common decay. 

The sergeants made proclamation. Hastings ad- 
vanced to the bar and bent the knee. lie looked like a 
great man, and not like a bad man. A person small and 
emaciated — a high intellectual forehead, a brow pensive 
but not gloomy, a mouth of inflexible decision, a face 
pale and worn, but serene. 

In the midst of the blaze of red drapery, a space had 
been fitted up with green benches and tables for the 
Commons. The managers, with Burke at their head, ap- 
peared in full dress. Fox, generally so regardless of his 
appearance, had paid the illustrious tribunal the compli- 
ment of wearing a bag and sword. The box in which 
the managers stood contained an array of speakers such 
as perhaps had not appeared together since the great age 
of Athenian eloquence. Fox and Sheridan, the English 
Demosthenes and the English Hyperides ; Burke, in 
amplitude of comprehension and richness of imagination, 
superior to every orator, ancient or modern ; the ingen- 
ious, the chivalrous, the high-soul ed Windham ; and with 
his splendid talents and unblemished honor Charles Earl 
Grey. 

On the third day Burke rose. Four sittings were 
occupied by his opening speech. With an exuberance 
of thought and a splendor of diction which more than 
satisfied the highly raised expectations of the audience, 
he described the character and institutions of India, re- 
counted the origin of the Asiatic Empire of Britain, and 
arraigned the administration of Hastings. The energy, 
the pathos of the great orator extorted expressions of 
unwonted admiration from the stern, hostile chancellor. 



76 ABOARD A2UD ABROAD. 

The ladies in the galleries, unaccustomed to such displays 
of eloquence, excited by the solemnity of the occasion, 
were in a state of uncontrollable emotion. Handker- 
chiefs -were pulled out, smelling-bottles were handed 
round, hysterical sobs and screams were heard, and Mrs. 
Sheridan was carried out in a fit. At length the orator, 
raising his voice till the old arches of Irish oak re- 
sounded, said : " Therefore hath it with all confidence 
been ordered by the Commons of Great Britain that I 
impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misde- 
meanors ; 1 impeach him in the name of the Commons' 
House of Parliament, whose trust he has betrayed. I 
impeach him in the name of the English nation, whose 
ancient honor he has sullied. I impeach him in the 
name of the people of India, whose rights he has trodden 
underfoot, whose country he has turned into a desert. 
Lastly, in the name of human nature, in the name of 
both sexes, in the name of every age, in the name of 
every rank, I impeach the common enemy and oppressor 
of us all." 

As to-day we stand beneath that old roof, we cannot 
but feel the presence and hear the voices and the tread 
of the giants who spake and walked in other days within 
these walls, mossy with age, beneath that roof festooned 
with the doings of centuries. 



LAMBETH PALACE. 

Looking through the smoke across the Thames from 
the western end of "Westminster Bridge to the eastern 
bank, one sees, almost just opposite the Parliament 



LAMBETH PALACE. 77 

Houses, an edifice not very imposing at this distance 
which great numbers of tourists altogether ignore. And 
yet it would be difficult to find, even in London, a build- 
ing more amply clad with associations of soul-stirring 
import. For twopence the boat landed us at the wharf, 
and a short walk brought us to the grand gateway of 
brick with stone dressing, flanked by two imposing 
towers, and here we found that we were an hour too 
early. This was anything but a welcome piece of in- 
formation, as we had no hours to waste, and then, in an- 
swer to our request of the archbishop for a permit, we 
had received a card, promptly sent, on which nothing 
was said about time, and it was now after ten o'clock. 
The reason given, however, for the delay was curiously 
interesting. As stated by the porter, it was this : "I 
am giving out the archbishop's dole." And we found 
that for hundreds of years, on a certain clay of the week, 
between certain hours, from a fund provided for the 
purpose, a gift of bread lias been made to certain poor 
people, and the almoner was then engaged in this work 
of charity. The time has been when four thousand 
people, twice a week, received each a farthing loaf at this 
old gateway. If it was too early to enter, it was not too 
early to take a look at those venerable bricks and stones 
that had been put together in those walls before Colum- 
bus chartered his three vessels for his pleasure trip across 
the Atlantic in quest of a new world. And some three 
hundred years before that, the palace behind that gate 
had become the official residence of the Archbishop of 
Canterbury. 

Leaving the almoner to dole out his gifts, we took a 
seat on the top of a 'bus to spend the time in a tour of 
exploration. Passing up and down that embankment it 
is difficult to see how all that land can have grown be- 



78 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

tween Lambeth Palace and the river. There' was a time 
when the Thames washed the walls of the palace, and 
now quite an expanse of land intervenes between them. 
The fact is that not only men and animals — as, for ex- 
ample, the wolf transmuted into the house-dog — but 
even brawling, raging rivers bow in humility to the 
mastering behests of civilization. The mouth of the 
Mississippi is feeling its touch at the hands of Captain 
Eads. There was a time when Father Thames had 
things pretty much his own way. During his Druidical, 
Saxon and early Norman days, he spread himself into 
many a region where now he sees and obeys the sign — 
"No thoroughfare." lie once brought the pleasure 
barges up the steps of the still existing and beautiful 
Watergate of York House, between which and the liver 
at the present time lie acres of land. The Strand is a 
good way from the river, yet its name informs us that it 
was once near enough to be styled the Strand. And not 
so very long ago the waters of the river washed the walls 
of Lambeth Palace and invaded its cellars, and to shut 
them out, earth was thrown in till the pillars of the 
crypt beneath the chapel have been buried nearly up to 
their capitals in the process. And there have been times 
in the history of Lambeth Palace when these waters be- 
low it were made the agents of a terrible utility. 

As we entered, we were pointed to a Avail called the 
Mercy Wall, because of the shelter it gave to a fugitive 
queen, then a young mother with her babe, one cold 
stormy December night. The poor woman was suffer- 
ing, as myriads of women in every age suffer from the 
sins of the husband. James the Second, happily the 
last of the Stuarts, except such Stuarts as those Presby- 
terian ones of New York and Philadelphia, and we pray 
that the world may never see the last of such, had by his 



LAMBETH PALACE. 79 

tyranny, and by his evident aims at thorough despotism, 
at last worn out the endurance of the people, who were 
now waiting the arrival of William on his way from Tor- 
hay. The terrified king was pacing the floor of White- 
hall and listening to the ominous tidings as breathless 
messengers followed each other to his palace. It was at 
length decided that the queen with the babe should ily 
and make her way to France. An open skiff at the back 
stairs of the palace took the queen on board with the 
baby prince and two women, and was shoved off into 
the darkness and the storm. The wind was cold, the 
rain came pitilessly down, the night was dark, the water 
rough, as the frail bark, tossed to and fro, made its way 
toward the other shore. A carriage was in waiting, but 
the horses were not harnessed. Dreading discovery, 
and hence not daring to enter any house, the queen cow- 
ered for shelter beneath the walls of Lambeth Palace, 
shuddering at the sound of every footstep, and trembling 
with fear even when the hostler came with his lantern 
to announce that the coach was ready. Entering it with 
her little company, she was driven away into the storm 
and night, and in due time reached Gravesend, and 
sailed for France. 

We are now within the "walls of the palace — the home 
for more than six hundred years of the Archbishop of 
Canterbury. By a stupendous anomaly the monarch of 
England is the supreme head on earth of the Church of 
England, be that monarch as pure and pious as Queen 
Yictoria or as impure and vile as George the Fourth. 
Next to the monarch in church rank stands the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury. The Archbishop of York is the 
Primate of England, but the Archbishop of Canterbury 
is the Primate of All England. As such he is pastor of 
the royal family, and hence claims the right, when royal 



80 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

personages are to be joined in holy wedlock, to tie the 
sacred knot. Accordingly when the Bishop of Salis- 
bury claimed the privilege of marrying Henry I. on the 
ground that Windsor Castle was in his diocese, his claim 
was met by a protest on the part of the nobles. With 
three exceptions only since the time of William the Con- 
queror the Archbishop of Canterbury has placed the 
crown upon the head of the monarch on his accession to 
the throne. For a long time the Archbishop of York 
was expressly excluded from this service, and in the 
absence of the Primate of Canterbury the service was to 
be performed by the Bishop of London. !Now, how- 
ever, this act of coronation may be done by the Primate 
of Canterbury or the Primate of York, or by any other 
bishop whom the sovereign may appoint. 

The word Lambeth means lamb-hithe — lamb-hither — 
that is, a landing-place for lambs. Some of the arch- 
episcopal lambs who have landed at Lambeth have 
worn a golden fleece and a collar of diamonds and rubies. 
The household of one of these lamb-like primates com- 
prised " a steward, treasurer, comptroller, gamators, 
clerk of the kitchen, caterer, clerk of the spicery, yeo- 
man of the ewery, bakers, pantlers, yeoman of the horse, 
yeomen ushers, butlers of wine and ale, larderers, squil- 
aries, ushers of the hall, porters, ushers of the chamber, 
gentlemen ushers, yeomen of the chambers, marshal, 
groom-ushers, almoners, cooks, chandlers, butchers, mas- 
ter of the horse, yeomen of the wardrobe, and harbin- 
gers. There were generally three tables spread in the 
hall and served at the same time, at the first of which 
sat the archbishop, surrounded by peers of the realm, 
privy councillors and gentlemen of the greatest quality ; 
at the second sat the chaplains and all other clerical 
guests below the rank of diocesan bifhops and abbots ; 



LAMBETH PALACE. 81 

and at the third or steward's table sat all the other gentle- 
men invited." One would think that a real lamb would 
hardly know himself in these surroundings. How ter- 
ribly unlamblike were the spirit and deportment of some 
of the occupants of this arch-episcopal fold, the pages of 
history tell and the frowning, weeping Lollard's Tower 
testifies. 

It required some very serious and not over-seemly 
contests to settle the question of precedence between the 
two Primates of Canterbury and York. At a meeting 
of the Provincial Council in the Chapel of St. Cath- 
erine's, Westminster, 1174, nearly twenty-five years be- 
fore Lambeth property was acquired, Canterbury took 
his seat on the right of the Pope's Legate—" When," 
says the narrative, " in springs Roger of York and find- 
ing Canterbury so seated, fairly sits himself down on 
Canterbury's lap — a baby too big to be danced thereon ; 
yea Canterbury's servants dandled this large child with 
a witness, who plucked him thence and buffeted him to 
purpose." In the scuffle, Dean Stanley tells us, the 
northern primate was seized, as he alleged, by the Bishop 
of Ely, thrown on his face, trampled down, beat with 
fists and sticks and severely bruised. 

All this, however, was before the primates had entered 
lamb-hithe, and, indeed, it occurred in those old Roman 
Catholic times when no better things could be expected. 
Alas that the lamb-like spirit should have been so often 
so far away from Lambeth after the Reformation had 
opened those palace doors to Protestant dignitaries ! 
The truth is, however, that again and again, and espe- 
cially during the craze for uniformity — a craze that even 
yet affects, to a certain degree, some good Christian peo- 
ple — the clash of persecution sounded out more harshly 
from Lambeth Palace than it did even from the throne. 



82 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

Uniformity in worship was an English Protestant inven- 
tion — a sheer novelty. The greatest variety had pre- 
vailed in the Romish Church ; but all of a sudden a 
passion for this uniformity seized upon the authorities of 
Church and State, and, for the style of a cap, the color 
or cut of a robe, pulpits by the hundreds were emptied 
of their best occupants ; families were impoverished and 
prisons filled and men burned to death. And in many 
and many an instance the rousing force in these persecu- 
tions issued from the precincts of Lambeth. When 
Elizabeth " herself seemed to be at a stand, the arch- 
bishop spirited her forward." Pertinently was it said, 
" It seems a little odd that uniformity should be neces- 
sary to the decent worship of God, when in most other 
things there is greater beauty in variety. The rigorous 
pressing of the Act of Uniformity was the occasion of 
all the mischiefs that befell the Church for eighty 
years." Thus, while the lambs of Lambeth were clad 
in golden fleece and diamond collars, they sometimes 
wore the lion's mane, jaws and claws. 

Almost exactly five hundred years ago a scene of pro- 
found interest was witnessed in this palace. It was a 
trial scene. The judge was Courtney, Bishop of Lon- 
don, soon, however, to be Archbishop of Canterbury. 
The defendant at the bar Avas a tall, thin man, clothed 
with a long, black gown, girdled around his waist. He 
wore a heavy, flowing beard ; his features were keen and 
sharply cut ; his eye clear and penetrating ; his mouth 
closed with eveiy mark of unyielding purpose ; every 
inch a man in loftiness of aim and dignity of bearing. 
That he was a man of some nerve may be inferred from 
the fact that already there were five Papal bulls roaring 
after him, and he paid no more attention to them than if 
they had been so many kittens mewing. The name of 



LAMBETH PALA.GE. 83 

this defendant was John de Wycliffe. The trial pro- 
duced a great excitement in London, and crowds of citi- 
zens surrounded Lambeth Palace, and some even forced 
their way into the court. The trial had not proceeded 
very far when Sir Henry Clifford entered, himself a 
Lollard and " knight of the body " to Joan, Princess of 
Wales, widow of the Black Prince, and mother of the 
king. From the princess the knight bore a message to 
the effect that the Council should not " presume to pro- 
nounce anything in the form of a sentence against the 
said John." The result was that "the said John" 
bade the discomfited court good-by, entered a skiff and 
went back to Oxford. 

But let ns go into the hall built during the reign of 
Charles II. It is now a library ; it has a grand roof of 
carved oak. The library contains some exceedingly 
beautiful manuscripts, among them a copy of the four 
Gospels in Irish, given by King Athelstan to the city of 
Canterbury, and a copy of the Koran, taken from the 
library of Tippoo Saib at Seringapatam. The penman- 
ship of those old monks was quite as good as that of 
some Protestants I know — ministers and elders. Up- 
stairs is the old guard-room, now the dining-kall, and 
along the staircase and on the walls of the hall arc some 
portraits that speak of centuries gone by. Here is the 
face of Matthew Parker, admitted to Lambeth as arch- 
bishop by Queen Elizabeth. He was a grim, active per- 
secutor, not only obeying with shameful servility the 
mandates of the queen, but often outrunning both her 
zeal and the limits of the law. This face is that of 
Archbishop Grindal, the successor of Parker, and in 
spirit much more like the beloved John than like his 
cruel predecessor. So gentle was he with the Puritans 
that before a year had gone over his head in his high 



84 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

office, tlie pitiless queen suspended him ; nor did she 
restore him till he was old and blind and ready to die. 
One of the faces we especially sought out was that of 
Archbishop Laud. Laud, Wentworth and Charles I. 
were the triumvirate that undertook to bind England, 
Ireland and Scotland with strong cords, and lay them 
helpless at the feet of the English throne. Their success 
was about equal to that of the seven sons of Sceva, the 
Jew, who undertook to cure a demoniac by using the 
name of Jesus, whom Paul preached, and upon whom 
the patient leaped, overcoming them, so that they fled 
out of the house naked and wounded. The triumvirate 
succeeded in getting England and Ireland down, but in 
Scotland the stool of good Janet Geddes, flung at the 
head of the Dean of Edinburgh, was the occasion of a 
reaction that ultimately took off the head of Charles, of 
Wentworth, and of Laud, and saved constitutional liberty 
for Britain and the world. But here is one more por- 
trait that fixes the eye and perhaps calls a tear into it. 
The face is not one that indicates vigor or decision of 
character, though the beard resembles that of a much 
greater and better man, John Ivnox. What means that 
hand so carefully held to view ? That is the hand that 
signed the recantation, and that at the last was held out 
in the flame till it burned off, while the suffering peni- 
tent stood and exclaimed, " That unworthy hand !" 
While in power, Cranmer had yielded to the spirit of 
persecution, and the blood of saints was on his garments. 
When /us turn came to suffer, he at first shrank from the 
ordeal and denied his Lord, but at last the very spirit of 
heroism came to him, and he died in triumph ! It was 
a happy thought of the painter to put that hand in view 
upon the canvas ! 

But it is time to make our way up the narrow stairs 



LAMBETH PALACE. 85 

into tlie cc Lollard's Tower," snid to be the oldest brick- 
work in England since the time of the Romans. Through 
a door opening out of the beautiful chapel in which 
most of the archbishops have been consecrated, we pass 
into the post-room, with its fine, flat, richly ornamented 
ceiling, and its central post to which the Lollards were 
tied to be whipped. And now we go up a narrow, wind- 
ing staircase made of oak slabs, so rude that even the 
bark was left on them. This stairway, now some four 
hundred and fifty years old, has given passage to troops 
of human feet through every generation, some of them 
dragging heavy chains, some of them shod with author- 
ity to torture and to slay. It leads us into the Lollard's 
Prison. This prison is thirteen feet one way, twelve 
the other and eight feet high. It is lined, sides, floor 
and ceiling, with heavy oak boards about an inch thick. 
Its massive door is pierced with a small, square opening 
through which the hapless inmates could be inspected by 
the jailer or persecutor. Eight grim, strong iron rings 
in the sides of the room, and certain marks burned by hot 
iron ; the fireplace without a chimney indicating coal 
fires for the purposes of suffocation ; the trap-door in 
the floor opening into the water below for the bodies of 
the living or the dead, tell to the eye a tale the ear would 
rather not hear. As in the case of its grim brother, the 
" Beauchamp Tower," in the Tower of London, the 
walls, marked with inscriptions, show how the prisoners 
spent some of the moments of their weary confinement 
as they awaited release or death. Some of them cut 
notches in the boards to mark the lapse of time. One 
inscription reads " ILLS, cyppe me out of all compane. 
Amen." 

In our easy-going time when Christianity walks in 
velvet slippers and fares sumptuously every day, it can- 



yti ABOAKD AND ABROAD. 

not be amiss that wo refresh our minds with the story of 
what men and women endured for conscience' sake and 
Christ's sake in the days gone by. Lambeth Palace 
stands before us to-day a kind of parenthesis between 
the Lollard's Tower with its horrid appliances of oj:>pres- 
sion and torture, and the Mercy Tower, beneath whose 
sheltering walls Queen Mary Beatrice crouched with her 
babe that night. And as the sun is stronger than the 
clouds, and is sure to conquer in the conflict, so mercy 
has long ago expelled ail thought of cruelty from Lam- 
beth Palace, and left it the home of the Gospel of peace. 
And the Lollard's Tower remains only a place for 
tears at the thought of the sins and follies of persecu- 
tors, and the woes of those who in other days had trials 
of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, of 
bonds and imprisonment, who were tortured, not accept- 
ing deliverance that they might obtain a better resurrec- 
tion. 



HAMPTON COURT. 

Yeky few, one would think, can be insensible to the 
charm imparted to a scene by association with the doings, 
the darings, the joys, the sorrows, the victories, the de- 
feats, the virtues, the crimes, of their fellow-men of 
other days. Some, indeed, manage to travel through the 
world and see only the gewgaws in the shop-windows. 
A friend of ours overheard a conversation at a table in 
London, in which a lady asked, " Daughter, did we go 
to Rome ?" " Why, yes, mother ! Don't you remem- 
ber we bought those Roman scarfs there ?" Others, 



IIAMPTOX COURT. 87 

however, not only see the grandeurs, but, in addition to 
any impressions received from natural, architectural, or 
other glories, feel the magic influence of the presence of 
their fellow-men there in the ages long gone by. It 
certainly adds somewhat to human interest, in such a 
wonder as the Natural Bridge of Virginia, to think of 
Washington cutting there his name in the hard rock, as 
by his after-life he carved it so deep on the mind of an 
admiring world. The one charm of Runnymede gleams 
from the footprints of those knights of old who extorted 
from their lackland king the Magna Charta ; and even 
Mont Blanc and Matterhorn acquire an ever-increasing 
fascination from the daring of those who scale their 
awful heights, as also from the hapless lot of those who 
slip over the precipice, or sink into the fatal chasm. 
And to many a wanderer over England's stoned soil, 
historic personages are ever starting into view, and 
peopling the field of thought with figures of men and 
women that in their day filled the eyes of all, but who 
long ago glided out of the dark door, and forever out of 
human view. 

At Hampton Court the fancy can hardly fail to see 
gliding through the air, walking noiselessly through 
court and corridor, the shadowy forms of Wolsey, strong, 
handsome, gorgeous in his ostentation; of Henry VIII., 
the burly tyrant and bloody wife-killer ; of Anne Boleyn ; 
of Catherine Howard ; of Mary the Bloody, and Philip, 
her sallow-faced, gloomy-browed husband ; of Eliza- 
beth ; of Edward VI., "a prince— for learning and 
piety, for acquaintance with the world and application 
to business, the very wonder of his age" — cut off, in the 
inscrutable providence of God, in the dewy dawn of 
manhood ; of Charles I., and of Cromwell. 

Hampton Palace may be reached by rail in a ride of 



8S ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

some twelve miles from Charing Cross, and by the river 
through a very serpentine course of about twenty miles. 
The palace was one of Wolsey's magnificent creations, 
as also was the Palace of Whitehall. It is a curious fact 
that Cromwell sickened at the former, and died in the 
latter. Wolsey leased the ground on which to build the 
palace for a period of ninety-nine years, and in less than 
ton years he was constrained, by a shrewd insight into 
what threatened his peace and safety, to make it a pres- 
ent to the king. In magnitude, in splendor of design 
and ornamentation, the palace was worthy of the im- 
perial tastes of the cardinal, whose rank placed him next 
to the king, with some uncertainty as to which came 
first, and whose household consisted of eight hundred 
persons. u Of gentlemen ushers, he had twelve daily 
waiters, besides one in the privy chamber, and of gentle- 
men waiters in his privy chamber he had six ; of lords, 
nine or ten, who had each of them two men allowed to 
attend upon them, except the Earl of Derby, who always 
was allowed live men. Then had he of gentlemen cup- 
bearers, carvers, servers, both of the privy chamber and 
of the great chamber, with gentlemen and daily waiters, 
forty persons ; of yeomen ushers, six ; of grooms in his 
chamber, eight ; of yeomen in his chamber, forty-five 
daily, lie had also almsmen, sometimes more in num- 
ber than at other times." 

The grounds selected for this monument of his glory 
are washed on one side by the Thames, and the rest of 
the circuit was separated from the outside world by a 
deep fosse. At one edge of this broad area rose the 
stately pile under the cardinal's superbly tasteful eye. 
A magnificent gateway, with wide-expanded wings, web. 
coined the coming guest. Behind the gateway a great 
court, one hundred and sixty-seven feet long and ono 



HAMPTON COURT. 89 

hundred and forty broad, received him. Then followed 
in course, court after court— the "Clock Court," the 
" Fountain Court" — all these courts encompassed with 
ranges of rooms looking down into them, and from the 
outer sides, looking over the magnificent grounds. 
These grounds were laid out in walks ; parterres inclos- 
ing an affluence of flowers, grouped according to the 
taste of the day ; wide lawns, green as emerald ; clumps 
of trees here and there ; groves ; long walks between 
beautiful hedgerows; the "Maze," or "Labyrinth," 
where the visitor finds it easier to lose himself than to 
recover his bearings ; " Queen Mary's Bower," formed 
by the branches of Scotch elm-trees interlocking over- 
head, the bower some ten feet wide, fourteen feet high, 
and one hundred feet long, and beneath which queens 
and their ladies used to sit and ply their needles in mak- 
ing decorations for bedroom and boudoir ; tennis court, 
where kings and queens played ; the " Long Walk," an 
enormous embankment along the river reaching nearly 
half a mile — " the noblest work of the kind in Europe" ; 
" Water Gallery," at the end of the terrace, erected as 
a landing-place for the pleasure-barges ; Greenhouse ; 
Grape-vine, with its main stem one foot in diameter, its 
principal branch one hundred and fourteen feet long, 
the vine yielding more than twelve hundred bunches of 
grapes in a season. 

In the matter of interior decoration, Wolsey was as 
luxurious in his tastes as in other matters. In the single 
item of tapestries, his purchases were extravagant enough 
to enrich a manufactory. In one bargain he bought one 
hundred and thirty pieces for twenty-one rooms ; nor 
did he rest till every one of the extensive suites of rooms 
was furnished with these costly hangings. 

Wolseys as well as kings are expensive luxuries to the 



90 ABOARD AXD ABROAD. 

people. To-day in the palaee, although it is occupied 
only by persons of rank in reduced circumstances, rooms 
in an almost interminable series are lined with tapestries 
and pictures, some of them of great value. No one can 
fail to be especially struck* with the numerous portraits 
from the pencil of Sir Peter Lely — the life that sparkles 
in them, the warm blood that shows through the soft, 
snow-white skin of the painted court beauties. On the 
walls of the Great Hall three fine pieces of tapestry, a 
part of a series of nine, represent " Ye Storye of ye 7 
Deadlie Syns. " It is a little surprising that those old 
sinners cared to be reminded in the midst of their revel- 
ries of such things as deadly sins. Eight superb pieces 
tell the story of the life of Abraham. In the time 
of Cromwell these tapestries were valued by the Par- 
liamentary Commissioners at more than £'8U00 ster- 
ling. 

Passing through " Anne Loleyn's Gateway," we find 
ourselves in the Clock Court, and over the gateway we 
see the celebrated astronomical clock. Queen Catherine 
Howard's room was near this court. She had heard the 
clock tick and strike while King Henry was pouring hon- 
eyed words into her ear. A year had hardly passed after 
their marriage when Cranmer came to her from the king 
with his deadly message, and while he was telling her 
pale, trembling heart of the fickle monarch's alienation, 
the clock struck, calling to her mind memories of de- 
lightful hours gone never to return, and at the sound she 
burst into an agony of tears and lamentations. 

As you go down the queen's great staircase, you see 
on the right the door of the Haunted Chamber. It is real 
pleasure, in these days of cast-iron positivism, to get once 
in a while within the precincts of a real ghost. In this 
room Queen Catherine Howard was shut up previous to 



1IAMPT03T COURT. 91 

her removal to the deadly Tower. Finding the door un- 
locked, and learning that the king was in the chapel, she 
stole out, hurried along the hall, intent upon throwing 
herself at her husband's feet, but at the door of the 
chapel the king's guard seized her, and dragged her 
shrieking back to her prison and her doom. And to this 
day, at certain intervals, the figure of a woman dressed 
in white may be seen approaching the royal pew in that 
chapel, and just as the pew-door is reached the affrighted 
figure starts and flies back along the passage, filling the 
air with unearthly shrieks. Unfortunately, our visit, as 
I believe has been the case with that of most other vis- 
itors, occurred just between these apparitions, and hence 
we failed actually to see the ghost, but the guide-book 
told us all about the matter. 

As to the king that day, it was hardly to be expected 
that one so devout and so deeply absorbed in holy medi- 
tation should allow a matter so worldly to intrude upon 
his thoughts. So he heard mass and received absolution, 
and his wife was beheaded ! 

The Romish Church has a world of sin to answer for 
in fostering crime by easy absolution. What "Wycliife 
said in his day has been dismally true through ages in 
that Church : " Many think if they give a penny to a 
pardoner, they shall be forgiven the breaking of all the 
commandments of God, and therefore they take no heed 
how they keep them." That prince of wickedness, 
Louis XI. of France, always wore a leaden image of the 
Yirgin in his hat, and when he would perpetrate some 
special feat of iniquity, he would thrust his cane into the 
ground, hang his hat upon it, go down on his knees, and 
make a vow that if the Yirgin would help him out with 
his sins, he would erect another chapel in her honor ; 
and to such vows as these the Virgin was indebted for 



92 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

many a costly chapel. Priestly absolution lias been a 
terrible nourisher of crime. 

But there is another curious fact about that astronom- 
ical clock very much to its credit. On the night of 
March 2d, 1619, when James First's Queen Anne of 
Denmark died, the clock was striking four, but it stop- 
ped immediately, and it lias done so ever since when any 
one long resident in the palace dies within the precincts. 
Of what value this habit of the clock is to any one, we 
did not learn, but it certainly shows a very commend- 
able sympathy with human affairs. 

One of the most notable rooms in this palace is " The 
Great Hall," a truly magnificent room, more than one 
hundred feet long, forty feet wide, and sixty feet high, 
flooded with many-colored light through many rich, 
stained-glass windows, and hung with those beautiful 
tapestries. It is said to be one of the most sumptuous 
examples extant of the internal decoration of a Tudor 
Palace. The roof is a marvel of Gothic beauty, and re- 
minds one of the roof of Westminster Hall. It is a 
wilderness of half arches supporting whole arches, and 
each of these supporting a sort of screen pierced with 
tracery of affluently varied device ; of elaborately carved 
pendants hanging from the inner extremities of the half 
arch ; spandrils cut through with a profusion of delicate 
carving ; beams and cross-beams. Nothing, however, 
but a sight of the roof itself, or of a photograph of it, 
can convey anything but a confused idea of the whole. 
At one end of the hall is the Minstrel Gallery, from 
which night after night for many a year flowed the 
music to guide the steps of king, queen, prince, noble, 
lord, and lady in the dance, or to mellow and blend the 
confused murmur of conversation, laughter, and merry- 
making at the banquet. That ceiling now looking down 



HAMPTON (JOUIIT. 93 

on us humble gazers at its glories, lias in other days 
looked down, not only on banquets, dances, and revels, 
but on grand receptions of ambassadors from many lands. 
Moving slowly through that hall, and musing on the 
past, one can hardly resist a sigh over the evanescence 
of everything human. 

The fires of the pyrotechnic art are very beautiful, but 
ere you can say " Behold I" they are no more. As w T e 
stand beneath that gorgeous roof, and think of all the 
glory of the past, we recall the words of Knox to the 
court ladies of Holy Rood, as he came from one of his 
memorable interviews with the bad, beautiful queen : 
" O fair ladies, how plesing war this lyfe of yours if it 
sould ever abyde, and then, in the end, that ye might 
pass to hevin w T ith all this gay gear. But fye upon that 
knave Death that will come widder we will or not." 

But there is another apartment in this great palace 
that is much more interesting to us than even the Great 
Hall, and all the imposing scenes witnessed by that 
splendid roof. This is the Drawing-room within the 
king's Privy Chamber. In this room was held the 
memorable conference between the bishops and the Puri- 
tans in the presence of King James I. On his way from 
Holy Rood to Whitehall, to take his seat upon the Eng- 
lish throne, a petition signed by nearly a thousand godly 
hands was presented to the king, begging his influence 
in favor of further reformation of the Church. The 
king accepted the petition, and chiefly, it would seem 
from what followed, that he might enjoy an opportunity 
to exhibit his learning to the admiring English court, he 
appointed the " Hampton Court Conference " which was 
held in this room. The scenes of that conference we 
have the means of reproducing to our fancy. As a mat- 
ter of course, the central figure is his majesty King 



94 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

James. ~Ko one wlio has read Macaulay can have for- 
gotten his photograph of this monarch : " The most ri- 
diculous weaknesses seemed to meet in the wretched Sol- 
omon of Whitehall : pedantry, buffoonery, garrulity, low 
curiosity, the most contemptible personal cowardice. 
Nature and education had done their best to produce a 
finished specimen of all that a king ought not to be." 
lie writes a,lso of " his awkward figure, his rolling eye, 
his rickety walk, his nervous tremblings, his slobbering 
mouth." The picture drawn by John Richard Green 
presents us with "his big head, his slobbering tongue, 
his quilted clothes, his rickety legs, his goggle eyes, 
which stood out in as grotesque a contrast with all that 
men recalled of Henry or Elizabeth, as his gabble and 
rhodomontade, his want of personal dignity, his vulgar 
buffoonery, his coarseness, his pedantry, his contemptible 
cowardice." Such was the personal appearance of the 
"Solomon of his age," the "wisest fool in Christen- 
dom," who sat in the royal chair that day at the Hamp- 
ton Court Conference. 

But beneath this exterior, equally disgusting and ri- 
diculous, there dwelt the cunning shrewdness to recog- 
nize the " form and pressure" of his environment, and 
the ability to take advantage of -whatever fitted his des- 
potic tastes, and made for his despotic aims. 

While in Scotland this man had professed himself an 
enthusiastic Presbyterian. To the General Assembly 
he had said: "The Kirk of Scotland is the sincerest 
Kirk in all the world. The Kirk of Geneva keepeth 
Pasch and Youle, and what have they for them ? As 
for our neighbor Kirk in England, their service is an 
ill-said mass in English. They want nothing of the mass 
but the liftings. I charge you, my good people, minis- 
ters, doctors, elders, nobles, gentlemen, to stand to your 



HAMPTON COL'UT. * 95 

purity, and I forsooth, so long as I brook my life and 
crown, shall maintain the same against all deadly 1" 

But when his Majesty had got a taste of the despotism 
of the English monarchy, and saw the servility of the 
English bishops as contrasted with the stiff-backed Pres- 
byterian elders in his own country, his old faith began 
to waver. Seeing this, it is said that one of his honest 
chaplains treated the king, James YI. of Scotland, and 
James 1. of England, to a sermon on the text James 
1 : G : " He that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven 
with the wind and tossed." 

In summoning the parties to the conference, the king, 
while inflicting the grossest injustice upon the Puritans, 
had unconsciously paid them a splendid compliment. 
He limited their number to four, and to meet and answer 
these four, he summoned nine bishops and nine deans, 
and other dignitaries of the English Church — eighteen 
against four ! Had the king by some unpardonable 
oversight admitted five Puritans, the cause of the bishops 
might have been lost ! The bishops and deans were be- 
comingly arrayed in the habits of their respective offices ; 
the Puritans in the plain garb of professors in foreign 
universities. Surrounding these was a considerable array 
of nobles, privy counsellors, and courtiers. The confer- 
ence, if conference it could be called, where four men 
were badgered, abused, laughed at, and mocked by the 
king, his eighteen Church officials, and a rabble of god- 
less courtiers, lasted three days. When it was over, 
Bancroft, Bishop of London, "passionate, ill-natured, 
and a cruel persecutor of good men," probably sent an 
order to his tailor for a new pair of pantaloons, for the 
knees of those upon him must have been worn through. 
At every occasion he was down on his knees before this 
new and lovely divinity, to interpose some objection, or 



96 ABOARD AND ABIiOAD. 

to utter some raillery. On one occasion "Whitgift, Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, hardly escaped the crime of im- 
piety by crying out to that strange specimen of kinghood, 
" Your Majesty speaks by special assistance of God's 
Spirit !" During the conference the king interrupted 
Dr. Jlaynolds, one of the most admirable and learned 
divines of the day, exclaiming with profane vulgarity : 
" You are aiming at a Scots Presbytery, which agreeth 
with monarchy as well as God and the devil. Then 
Jack and Tom, "Will and Dick, shall meet and censure 
me and my Council. Therefore, pray stay one seven 
years before you demand that of me, and if then you 
find me pursy and fat, and my windpipe stuffed, 1 will 
perhaps hearken to you, for let that government be up, 
and I am sure I shall be kept in breath ; but till you 
find that I grow lazy, pray let that alone." Then to the 
bishops : " My lords, 1 thank you that these Puritans 
plead for my supremacy, for if once you are out and 
they in place, I know what would become of my suprem- 
acy, for no bishop, no king !" Then to Dr. Raynokls : 
" If this be all your party have to say, I will make them 
worse !' ' At this Bancroft was down again on his knees, 
saying : " I protest, my heart melteth for joy, that 
Almighty God of His singular mercy has given us such 
a king as since Christ's time has not been." This was 
probably true, though in a sense the reverse of what his 
reverence intended. 

Of this conference Mr. Ilallam writes in his " Consti- 
tutional History" : " In the account that we read of this 
meeting, we are alternately struck with wonder at the 
indecent and partial behavior of the king, and at the 
abject baseness of the bishops, mixed, according to the 
customs of servile natures, with insolence toward their 
opponents. It was easy for a monarch and eighteen 



FACE TO FACE WITH OLIVER CROMWELL. 97 

Churchmen to claim the victory, be the merits of the dis- 
pute what they might, over abashed and intimidated 
adversaries." 



FACE TO FACE WITH OLIVER CROMWELL. 

A face-to-face interview with such a magnate does 
not often fall to the lot of a Presbyterian parson, and 
still less frequently such an interview with one who had 
breathed his last almost two hundred years before the 
parson was born. But such has been the privilege of 
your present correspondent. True, the body of this 
great Englishman, if not the greatest of them all, was 
absent, but his very face was present. I was very glad 
to have the privilege of seeing Ms face, but no smile 
passed over those features at my presence, neither did 
those lips utter a word of salutation, though I had come 
from the land whither, we are told, he was on the point 
of fleeing when arrested by orders from the king — a land 
where probably he has more admirers than he has in any 
other land. lie seemed to be absorbed in thought, busy 
it may be with those royal Stuarts, one of whom he be- 
headed, and one of whom in turn beheaded him. Ad- 
miration of him in England, what there is of it, is per- 
haps too recent : his name and fame ; the record of 
his virtues and heroic achievements ; of his magnificent 
abilities ; of the commanding position he brought Eng- 
land to occupy in continental affairs ; of the awe with 
which his name inspired the potentates of the day ; of 
the tremors that at the lifting of his finger seized the 
persecuting arm of the Pope, causing him to drop the 



98 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

sword with which he was hewing in pieces " upon the 
Alpine mountains cold " the saints of the Most High ; 
of the companionship and co-operation of his great secre- 
tary, John Milton — all this and much more has perhaps 
been too recently called back from oblivion to have 
found very prominent recognition by those in charge of 
public affairs in England. Certain it is that while the 
Stuarts ; James the " Solomon " of the flatterers, the 
" inspired " of the bishops of his day ; Charles I., the 
grim, self-willed autocrat ; Charles II., the vile sensu- 
alist ; and James II., of whom it is enough to say that 
lie was a fall-blooded "Stuart —all these confront you in 
London at almost every turn, in niche, on pedestal, in 
fresco, on canvas, in public square and picture-gallery ; 
while for Cromwell we look almost in vain. True, 
Madame Tussaud has commemorated him as she has 
other heroes, and as she does criminals as well as heroes. 
We have not seen all there is in London, but the only 
public recognition of him that has come to our knowl- 
edge is found in " Cromwell Road," in the far west of 
the city. 

Having been bewildered with the innumerable tablets, 
busts, statues erect, kneeling, recumbent, in aisle, nave, 
transept, in Westminster Abbey, of men whose fame is 
conterminous with their marbles, and of men whose 
fame fills the world and extends through time, w T e make 
our way up the broad stairs into the matchless chapel of 
Henry VII., past the splendid tomb where lie the bronze 
effigies of Henry the Red-Rose Lancaster, and Eliza- 
beth, his wife, the White-Rose York, their blended 
lives ending the Wars of the Roses, and come to the ex- 
treme eastern end. A wide, bare, semicircular space 
meets the eye. If within the walls of that vast edifice 
there is a choice place for monumental stone, this is it. 



FACE TO FACE WITH OLIVER CROMWELL. 99 

And, in fact, the body of Oliver Cromwell, after having 
been embalmed, and having lain in state for days, was at 
length interred in this conspicuous place with more than 
regal honors, and for two or three years the remains of 
the Great Protector slept in peace. The Restoration 
came, and with it came the tomb- desecra tors. With 
erowbar, shovel, and profane hands, the body was re- 
moved, as the inscription in the pavement quietly 
informs the reader, then carted to the Red Lion Inn in 
Holborn, kept overnight, and in the morning carted to 
Tyburn. There it was hung, cut down, beheaded, the 
body buried, the head stuck upon a sharp spike with an 
oak handle, and fastened upon Westminster Hall, be- 
neath the magnificent roof of which Cromwell had sat 
in judgment upon Charles I. 

For years the storms beat, the winds blew upon that 
head, while dissolute Charles II. and his dissolute 
court revelled beneath it. At last one stormy night the 
wind blew it down, breaking the oak shaft. It was 
picked up by a sentry, kept till his death, and some sixty 
years ago came into the hands of the grandfather of the 
present possessor. Having learned of its whereabouts, 
we wrote to Mr. Horace Wilkinson, of Sevenoaks, 
twenty miles or so from London, and having received a 
very courteous reply with an invitation to his home, took 
rail one bright afternoon for his mansion. The iron 
horse sped us through beautiful Kentish landscapes, past 
fields with brigades of green hop-vines ; fields gray with 
ripening oats ; fields golden with ripened wheat or rye ; 
fields mottled with browsing sheep ; great windmills 
swinging their arms like guardian giants on the hills, 
and sharp, conical hop kilns with their quaint, pointed 
hoods, standing sentinels on the plains. We found Mr. 
Wilkinson waiting for us on the platform, and soon 



100 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

■were speeding behind two line horses along a fine Eng- 
lish road to his home two miles away. At length we 
reached a charming mansion embowered in ivy, inter- 
twined with flowering vines, the walls projecting here 
and there in ever- varying outline, the roof reaching far 
beyond the walls, shedding the rain in the storm, and 
dropping heavy shadows in the sunlight. The grounds 
around — abounding with shrubbery in great variety, and 
presenting roses of every hue and of magnificent size — 
showed everywhere the marks of cultivated taste. 

In due time Mr. "Wilkinson brought into the room a 
handsome polished box, out of which he lifted the ven- 
erable oak box which inclosed the head when so many 
years ago it came into possession of his family. Out of 
this he lifted the head. Before, however, opening the 
box, Mr. Wilkinson presented a variety of documents, 
some in print and some in manuscript, the latter being 
the account written by his grandfather, carefully and 
minutely detailing the historic accounts and confirmatory 
circumstances in the case. From the narrative it appears 
that after the death of the sentry, his family sold the 
head to Mr. Russell, of Cambridgeshire, and in the same 
oak box that now contains it ; the head then passed into 
the hands of a museum -keeper, James Cox, who sold it 
to those through whom it came into the hands of the 
grandfather of the present possessor. The case of 
Cromwell is the only instance known of a man being 
beheaded after having been embalmed. There is hair on 
the face and on the head. The place of the noted wart 
over the right eye is unmistakable. The spike is rusted 
into the skull, and the point projects above. There 
seems to be no reason to question the fact that the head 
of the Great Lord Protector remains still above ground, 
as a grim protest against the brutalities that desecrated 



CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL. 101 

his grave. If England is as yet unable to give positive 
public recognition of Cromwell's greatness, she certainly 
has done well so far to allow no other body to be laid in 
the tomb whence the Stuarts removed the body of 
Cromwell. 

After writing the above and after it had found its way 
into print we ascertained that just the reverse of this is 
true. As great an indignity as was possible was inflicted 
upon that grave by the burial in it of a considerable 
number of the illegitimate descendants of that vile em- 
bodiment of profligacy Charles II. 

It is impossible to speak too highly of the gentlemanly 
courtesy of Mr. Horace Wilkinson, of Sevenoaks, Kent, 
in his treatment of a perfect stranger, and we are very 
sure that a similar reception awaits any other of our 
countrymen who would care to look upon so curious a 
relic of the stirring times of the English commonwealth. 



CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL. 

The vital relation of this grand edifice to the life — 
intellectual, spiritual, and temporal — of the passing cen- 
turies, is witnessed by the fact that eighteen of its arch- 
bishops have been canonized, nine of its dignitaries have 
been appointed cardinals, twelve of them Lord Chancel- 
lors of England, four of them Lord Treasurers, one 
Lord Chief Justice, and nine Chancellors of the Uni- 
versity of Oxford. 

The architecture of the cathedral ranges through all 
the ages and styles, from the rudest Saxon, the grand, 



102 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

massive, simple Norman, and all the ages and phases of 
the Gothic — these phases of style so melting into each 
other in the whole pile as to produce a felicitous unity 
of effect. No cathedral interior that we have seen pro- 
duces an impression of greater grandeur than that far-tip 
vaulted nave, flanked by those great columns separating 
nave and aisle. 

Not improbably an edifice for Christian worship stood 
on this site so early as the time when the Roman eagles 
spread their strong wings over Britain. Again and again 
the savage violence of war and the consuming flames 
have spread desolation over the spot. But all desolation 
has been followed by restoration, and to-day the cathe- 
dral stands in unsullied beauty and undiminished 
grandeur. 

The scenes of devotion that have succeeded each other 
within these walls through the centuries have been in- 
terpolated with scenes of tragic and sanguinary violence. 
All readers of history are familiar with the story of 
Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury — of the 
fierce contests between him and King Henry II. — and 
with the scene on that December evening, in the year 
1170, when Fitzurse and his pitiless companions, in full 
armor, came clanging along the stone floor of the cathe- 
dral toward the steps leading from the transept to the 
choir, and at the foot of the stairs cut down their victim, 
as, with his back to a pillar, he struggled in vain with 
his assailants; and with the story of the "miracles" 
wrought at the shrine of " the saint," and of the " pil- 
grimages " to that shrine. 

Our experiences at and around Canterbury Cathedral 
were peculiarly pleasant, and in some respects unique. 
In company with, say a quarter of a hundred other Can- 
terbury pilgrims, we had gone the regulation- round of 



CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL. 103 

nave, choir, chapter-house, and cloister, of course not 
omitting the " Martyrdom "—the place where Becket 
fell. We had heard from a fifth to a fourth of the 
vergers' historical, descriptive, and architectural elo- 
quence, guessing at the rest, and had received an honor- 
able dismissal, when we set out on our own tour of in- 
spection among the ruins that fringe the cathedral 
grounds to the north — the ruins of the old Augustinian 
monastery. "We passed a range of lofty arches, long 
since disburdened of their load, now embowered in ivy, 
and wondering what they were made for ; solitary col- 
umns standing like travellers lost in a desert, and in their 
bewilderment and despair refusing to go further till some 
friendly guide showed them the way ; angles formed by 
two desolate wall -fragments leaning against each other 
for mutual support ; broad, massive stairways that led 
no- whither, which in their day offered passage to tens 
of thousands of human feet, hut which feel the pressure 
of human feet no more. While we were gazing wist- 
fully between the iron rods of a gate that forbade ingress 
at such a stairway, and wishing for free way among the 
fine, grandly picturesque, heavily-ivied ruins that on all 
sides caught the eye — arches through which other arches 
were seen, seamed and shaken, but ivy-clasped — we saw 
one approaching us clad in robes of ecclesiastical office, 
of what grade we in our American rusticity had no con- 
ception. Seeing us peering into those forbidden pre- 
cincts, he very kindly asked if we wished to enter, and 
on receiving our reply, he brought keys from a house 
near by, and admitted us. Assured by the courtly, 
kindly manner of our guide, we presented our creden- 
tials, and for a half hour or more we enjoyed the com- 
pany of our unknown friend, who led us into many 
nooks and corners of that old ruin, imparting informa- 



104 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

tion and pointing out objects to us of very curious inter- 
est. In the library we were shown a copy of an old 
fresco representing Zachariah after the birth of John. 
In the lap of Elizabeth lay the babe. Five men stood 
by who had got so mixed np under the artist's manipu- 
lation, that the whole live were supported on seven legs ! 
Then Zachariah must be painted dumb, and with an 
originality indicating no secondary grade of genius, the 
artist, enunciated this fact on canvas by painting the 
patriarch without a mouth ! 

But our friend also opened a door into his private 
grounds ; and, after inspecting these, we were taken 
through his house. This part he said was modern, only 
four hundred years old ; that is, it was built no longer 
ago than about the time of the discovery of America. 
From this portion of this venerable home, we were led 
into the ancient part, through a suite of rooms, which 
together formed part of a great hall in which the Canter- 
bury Pilgrims were entertained in the days of Chaucer, 
and long before. We entered cosey rooms, the ceilings 
of which sloped well toward the floor, and the great roof- 
beams of which, their extreme age concealed by the 
work of the painter, formed with the aid of hammer and 
nails convenient hanging places for things of ornament 
and things of use. We went up a narrow wooden stair- 
way, the steps so old and worn as to certify by their 
very aspect that troops of centuries had tramped over 
them up and down. We were led along a very narrow 
passage that had resounded to the tread of monks ages 
and ages ago. At length we came upon another friend 
of strangers, and especially of American strangers, and 
this was Mr. John R. Hall, of Canterbury, the author 
of a valuable book, "Rambles around Canterbury." 
Mr. Hall is an enthusiastic Canterbury antiquarian, has 



CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL. 105 

access to many parts of the cathedral grounds inaccessible 
to the ordinary guides, is full of information, valuable 
and curious, and authorized us to send our American 
friends to him on this condition, that they will not come 
to Canterbury in one train, and go off in the next. We 
were very much indebted to Mr. Hall, and we advise 
our American friends to put themselves into his kindly 
and courteous hands. 

But who was the mysterious friend who so kindly took 
us in charge, and after such courteous treatment intro- * 
duced us to Mr. Hall ? This inquiry forced itself more 
and more strongly into our thoughts as we followed and 
listened, and, as we parted, at our earnest request he put 
his card into our hand, and to our great surprise and 
gratification we read the name of a Right Reverend 
Bishop of the Church of England. At the shop near 
the cathedral, we secured a photograph likeness of the 
bishop, whose genial face we shall place among our 
favorites, and if he should visit Philadelphia one of these ;) 
days, he shall have a cordial welcome to our West 
Spruce Street church Presbyterian pulpit. 

In speaking of the interior of the cathedral, we forgot 
to mention one object of profound interest to the mind 
and heart of the lovers of the truth. In the year 156S, 
the seventh Huguenot General Assembly was held at La 
Rochelle, and so deep and general was the impression 
that Huguenot principles had made in France, that this 
Assembly met under letters-patent from Charles IX. 
Of that Assembly, Theodore Beza was Moderator. 
Present at that Assembly were Gaspard de Coligny, 
Prince Conde, Jean D'Albret, and many other notables 
of France. But one seat in that Assembly was vacant, 
the seat that awaited the coming of Odet Coligny, 
brother of the princely Admiral, and Cardinal though 



106 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

he was, yet a devout and devoted Huguenot, The car- 
dinal had taken leave of Queen Elizabeth, who treated 
him with marked distinction. He had reached Canter- 
bury on his way to La Rochelle, when he was poisoned 
by his valet. And there before us, between two pillars, 
in "a plain tomb not unlike the shape of a turf grave, 
but higher, and composed of bricks plastered over," lie 
the remains of Odet Coligny, " Bishop-elect of Beauvais 
and Cardinal Castilion," yet a hearty favorer of the 
Eeform, else there is reason to suspect he had not been 
poisoned. From pondering this tragedy we pass natur- 
ally to 

THE CHURCH IN THE CRYPT. 

We regarded it a very kindly providence that brought 
us to Canterbury, just in time to be present at the three 
hundred and thirty-fourth anniversary of the Huguenot 
Church, worshipping in the crypt of the cathedral. . That 
little church is a curious and touching memorial of the 
days when to worship God in the simple style of New 
Testament times, and to sing Gospel psalms and hymns 
and spiritual songs, was deemed and treated as a capital 
crime. In imagination we can very fully depict to our 
thought the scenes that filled the highways, the valleys, 
and fields of France with wailing, fainting, sickness, and 
death, as tens and tens of thousands of men and women, 
with their little ones in their arms or clinging to their 
hands or to their skirts, fled from home and country, to 
take refuge among peoples of strange speech, but of kin- 
dred Christian sympathies. Little did France dream 
that in butchering and driving into exile these faithful 
confessors, she was destroying her own moral fibre, 
trampling her conscience to death, and unsealing many 
a vial of wrath and sorrow upon her own heart. 

Even before the clouds broke in fury over France, 



CANTEKBURY CATHEDRAL. 107 

Dutch Huguenots had begun to make England their city 
of refuge. As early as 1549 John A. Lasco wrote to 
Edward YL's Seeretafy of State, predicting the com- 
ing storm in the Netherlands, and asking shelter for 
fugitives ; and in 1550, just three hundred and thirty- 
four years ago, by and with the advice of his Privy 
Council, Edward VI. gave to the Huguenots of Canter- 
bury the whole of the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral as 
a place for their religious assemblies, schools, and other 
meetings, according to their custom, and from that day 
to this Huguenot worship has been held in this crypt. 
As the fierceness of persecution increased on the Conti- 
nent, the number of fugitive Huguenots increased in 
Canterbury, until the number who sat at their com- 
munion-table, at the monthly administration of the sac- 
rament, was two thousand. 

"Honest as a Huguenot," was a proverb current for 
generations in France ; and that the Huguenot character 
did not suffer by transplantation to a new soil is certified 
by a curious document of the year 1(376. It reads in 
part as follows : " We whose names are subscribed, do 
humbly testify that the Walloon congregation in and 
about the city of Canterbury do live very peaceably 
and orderly, and are very laborious and industrious, 
whereby they not only maintain all their poor at their 
own charge, without permitting any of them to beg, but 
set many hundreds of the English poor on work, and are 
likewise of great help and benefit to the said city in 
bearing a great proportion of the public taxes," etc. 
This document is signed by John Lott, Mayor ; Squire 
Bcrerton, Chamberlain, and fourteen others. 

The spiritual fidelity of this people showed itself in a 
watchful discipline. They divided Canterbury into four 
districts, over each of which two elders and four deacons 



108 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

were appointed. " These officers visited every family and 
working establishment in their quarter." The duty of 
the elders was to explain the Word of God, settle differ- 
ences among the people, report to the pastor cases thafc 
needed his attention, and collect weekly contributions 
for the support of the ministry, while the deacons gave 
their attention to the poor ; and both elders and deacons 
saw to it that the people attended church, and that the 
children went to school on the week-days, and to the 
catechising on Sundays. 

The crypt of the cathedral covers a very extensive 
area, broken at intervals by the massive pillars which, 
branching as they rise, form the support of the pile 
above. The portion now occupied by the Huguenot 
congregation consists of " the parts that lie beneath the 
south arm of the eastern transept." This space is sep- 
arated by a wall from the rest of the crypt, is painted, 
furnished with pulpit and pews, and forms a comely and 
comfortable place of worship. 

It was in this place of worship, hallowed by memories 
so sacred and so touching, consecrated by the worship of 
the Triune God in the name of Jesus Christ on more 
than seventeen thousand Sabbath days, that we took our 
seat on Sabbath afternoon, the 27th of July, 1884. The 
pews rapidly filled, and by and by all eyes were fixed 
upon a fine-looking man as he passed to his seat near the 
pulpit, clad in a scarlet robe, a very heavy gold chain 
about his neck, from which was suspended a heavy golden 
badge of office. This was the Mayor of Canterbury. Very 
soon our eyes were fixed upon another, in clerical attire, 
tall, graceful, with a scholarly face. This was the 
preacher of the occasion, the Rev. the Honorable Canon 
Fremantle. His voice was clear and pleasant, his enun- 
ciation very distinct, and the matter so satisfactory to 



CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL. 109 

the pastor and elders, that I heard them saying that they 
must have a copy of it for publication. Among the 
portions that specially fixed our attention was that in. 
which the Rev. Canon expressed his gratification at 
being able in the crypt of that Primatial Cathedral with- 
out offence to preach at a Presbyterian service. He 
recalled with evident pleasure the days when the Church 
of England was on terms of free interchange of services 
with the other great churches of the Reformation, carry- 
ing our minds back to the period when the exclusive 
validity of Episcopal ordination had yet to be discovered. 
He regretted the loss to the Church of England from her 
self-imposed isolation, and looked forward with hope to 
the time when this isolation would give place to fraternal 
intercourse. We are well acquainted with both respected 
laymen and beloved ministers in the Episcopal denomi- 
nation in our own country who deeply sympathize with 
the Rev. Canon in these regrets and hopes. That Canon 
Fremantle is not alone in England in his views upon this 
subject, may be learned from the pregnant sentences of 
John Richard Green in his " Short History of the English 
People" — a very valuable vade-mecum for the intelligent 
tourist in England. Writing on pages 609-610, of the 
edition of 188-1, of the expulsion, on St. Bartholomew's 
Day, 1662, of a fifth of the whole of the clergy of the 
land as Nonconformists, " men whose zeal and labor had 
diffused throughout the country a greater appearance of 
piety and religion than it had ever displayed before," he 
says: "It was the close of an effort which had been 
going on ever since Elizabeth's accession, to bring the 
English communion into closer relations with the re- 
formed communions of the Continent, and into greater 
harmony with the instincts of the nation at large. The 
Church of England stood from that moment isolated and 



110 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

alone among all the churches of the Christian world. 
The Reformation had severed it irretrievably from those 
which still clang to the obedience of the papacy. By 
Its rejection of all but Episcopal orders, the Act of Uni- 
formity severed it as irretrievably from the general body 
of the Protestant churches. .And while thus cut otf 
from all healthy religious communion with the world 
without, it sank into immobility within. With the ex- 
pulsion of the Puritan clergy, all change, all efforts after 
reform, all national development, suddenly stopped. 
From that time to this the Episcopal Church has been 
unable to meet the varying spiritual needs of its adher- 
ents by any modification of its government or its wor- 
ship. It stands alone among all the religious bodies of 
western Christendom in its failure through two hundred 
years to devise a single new service of prayer or of 
praise." This is the strong, honest language of one of 
the many ornaments of the Church of England. 

At the close of the service, finding myself near the 
Rev. Canon, I could not help expressing to him my 
gratification. With great 2)oliteness he returned my sal- 
utation, and invited me to accompany him into the 
grounds about his residence, where on a shaded seat we 
talked of the Huguenots, the Belfast Council, in which 
he showed an intelligent interest, and of things in 
America. When in America, as a member of the Evan- 
gelical Alliance, Canon Fremantle had preached in Dr. 
Paxton's pulpit, and expressed gratification at learning 
of Dr. Paxton's election to the Princeton professorship. 

This anniversary and interview added new ingredients 
to the cup of our exceedingly pleasant experiences at 
Canterbury. 



HASTINGS. Ill 



HASTINGS. 



A railway ride of seventy-five miles from London to 
the south and a little to the cast brings one to the sea 
and to Hastings, now a favorite watering-place of Eng- 
land's sons and daughters. 

The history of Hastings dates back to a very remote 
antiquity. It seems to have been a place of importance 
in the times of the Saxon heptarchy. In the reign of 
Athelstan, a hundred and forty year's before the Norman 
conquest, a mint was established there, which remained 
till the time of William the Red. 

The exposure of this part of the English coast to in- 
vasion from France and to the attacks of the sea-robbers 
of early times, led to the celebrated Cinque-Port arrange- 
ment, under which certain duties were imposed upon 
Hastings, Ronmey, Hythe, Dover, and Sandwich, in 
consideration of which they were invested with certain 
special privileges. These live cities were not only to 
defend the coast that lay along their front, but to fur- 
nish ships for a good part of the royal navy ; and the 
story of their exploits fills a brilliant chapter in English 
history. Of these live cities Hastings contended with 
Dover for the primacy ; for to this primacy certain 
special privileges were attached. 

In reward for their vigilance and success in guarding 
the Channel, the Barons of the Five Ports enjoyed the 
privilege of sitting at the right hand of the king at the 
great coronation banquets in Westminster Hall, and after- 
ward an additional and highly esteemed privilege was 
added. For many a reign the new-comer to the throne 
spent the few days previous to the coronation in the 



112 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

Tower, and on the morning of the great day the Tower 
guns thundered, the great gates rolled open, and out 
from under the grim arches a procession issued, two 
abreast, glittering with gold and crimson, moving on 
through Cheapside, Fleet Street, and the Strand to "West- 
minster. Anne Boleyn, dressed in robes of white tissue, 
her bright hair falling over her shoulders, her head en- 
circled with a coronet of gold and diamonds, as she rode 
through the throngs of delighted on-lookers, saw Corn- 
hill and Gracechurch Street draped with tapestry, Cheap- 
side with gold and tissue and velvet. And all along, 
from the Tower to the Abbey, and also during the 
solemn anointing of the monarch there, it was the high 
privilege of the Barons of the Cinque Ports to hold the 
canopy over the royal person. And in this ceremony 
Hastings, as first among them, claimed precedence. 

The object at Hastings that first strikes the attention 
of the stranger is the castle. There seems to be some- 
thing specially fascinating in those gigantic piles of rock 
and masonry called castles. Their antiquity takes hold 
of the imagination, and in it we seem to hear a voice 
speaking to us out of the centuries so long gone by. As 
we sit among these ruins we seem to hear the soft tread of 
centuries as they glide like ghosts away. Tsor is there 
wanting a certain pathos in their aspect of enfeebled, 
tottering age, wrinkled and palsied with the passage of 
so many generations. They whisper to us of our brethren 
according to the flesh who so long ago lived and loved 
and sinned and suffered, and performed, some of them, 
deeds of daring that ennoble man, and tell of that in 
him that triumphs over time and death and lives on 
forever. 

The hill on which the Castle of Hastings sat and 
where her ruins languish rises in fine, abrupt isolation 



HASTINGS. 113 

many hundreds of feet above the surrounding sea-level 
below. 

From various points an extensive panorama meets the 
eye. To the eastward and westward the city recedes 
into the broad ravines, flows over the hills and down the 
other side. Hills in the distance show here a group of 
dwellings, there the walls of some institution of benevo- 
lence ; here an education hall, with great reaches of land 
under cultivation. Over the sea edge of the cliff you 
look down on the tops of fine ranges of houses with their 
backs close up against the rock. About the middle of 
the mound, at its foot, the cliff recedes into an amphi- 
theatre, the lines of which the buildings closely follow 
in a range of edifices called the Pelham Crescent. In 
front of these is an ample roadway, alive with vehicles 
of various kinds, a line of terraces, parades, charming 
drives, two or three miles in extent, and at the western 
end blending with those of St. Leonard's. A broad 
walk and an ample beach presents to view on a summer 
evening vast numbers of people ; here children playing 
in the sand ; yonder, as we saw it, a troop of Salvation 
Army waving its banners and filling the air with songs, 
and here and there ha,lting to preach to the listening 
crowd. A little to the right a wide pier thrusts itself 
nine hundred feet into the sea, supporting at its extrem- 
ity a large pavilion, where, for a few pence apiece, two 
thousand people may drink in the ocean breezes, and at 
the same time sip a variety of beverages, according to 
the taste of thirsty lips. The sea before you for many 
a mile is dotted with vessels at anchor or in motion 
under the pressure of wind or steam. From these watch- 
towers, now in ruins, the sentinel has seen in years gone 
by many a fleet of pirate ships under the command of 
those terrible Vikings, with their dragon banners flap- 



114 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

ping in the wind, seeking a place to land and ravage. 
From this spot the soldiers of Harold saw the fleet of 
"William the Norman sweep by to land at Pevensey, not 
far away to the west. And past this cliff another Will- 
iam, in 1688, conducted his fleet toward Torbay, while 
James the Second trembled at Whitehall and watched 
the weather-vane for signs of a wind that might impede 
the passage of his enemy and England's friends. 

The castle must have been as nearly impregnable as 
castle could well be ; for its sea side was a sheer preci- 
pice accessible only to eagles' wings. Its other sides 
were girdled with a ditch one hundred feet wide and 
sixty feet deep, and inside of this a wall eight feet thick. 
An acre and a half of surface is covered with the ruins. 
"Within this inclosure tonsured monks went in procession 
and said their prayers ; the clang of spear-shield and 
mailed foot was heard, and here Adela, daughter of 
William the Norman, presided as queen of love at the 
first tournament that graced English soil. The old castle, 
or what remains of it, is now a pleasure garden, with 
here a grassy nook very convenient for private conversa- 
tion on the part of young people ; there a recess in the 
walls invites you to refreshments ; here a patch of flow- 
ers ; yonder a low, narrow door, in a towering mass of 
wall, in which you find a narrow stone stairway, up 
which you may look, but up which, if you are venture- 
some enough to go, you may meet the fate of Abime- 
lech, on whom a stone fell, and " all to brake his 
head ;" here a fine old arch, ivy-mantled, which, how- 
ever, has long since forgotten what it was built to sup- 
port. It is a fine, lone, desolate spot, in which to listen 
to the ghosts of the centuries as they whisper to one 
another of the memories of their youthful days. 



BREDE. 115 



BREDE. 



Lookixg- over the map of Hastings and vicinity, we 
noticed the name of the river Brede and of the town of 
Erede, some miles away, and, struck with the familiar 
sound, we concluded to visit said town on a tour of anti- 
quarian exploration. One bright, beautiful morning we 
bargained with the jehu of a wagonette and set out. 
Our course lay through a beautiful English landscape, 
iields where the wheat in really golden hues stood in 
sheaves waiting to be housed ; here and there a hooded 
hop-kiln ; patches of trees, heavy with bright, green 
foliage ; and all the way, on each side of the road, the 
hawthorn hedge. The nose of our driver reflecting, 
both in hue and other abnormalities, the familiar ale- 
cup, naturally introduced the subject of abstinence and 
prohibition, but we soon found that we had unsealed a 
fountain of indignant virtue. 

" Yes, it's hall well enough for them as can stay in 
th' 'ouse wen it rains and snows and blows, and can keep 
their beds of a mornin' till they likes to get hup, and go 
to bed wen they likes, to talk of not drinking a sup o' 
hale once in a while ; but let 'em 'ave to get hup afore 
light and sit on the box till ten o'clock at night, and 'ave 
the rheumatiz and the neuralgic and wat not, and then 
they'd know summut about it. Now, my father, he's 
retired. He's an old man, he is. He druv for fifty 
year, and he never drunk more'n a pint o' hale a day all 
his life. And the doctor tells me, says he : ' Drink 
your hale or beer or summut o' the sort to keep off the 
neuralgic,' and I'm going to do it. I couldn't live 
without it." I found that there was no reasonmsr 



116 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

against facts, experience, and medical advice com- 
bined. 

When we put up at Brede for an Lour to " bait the 
'oss, " my good friend took his seat on a bench, with 
some crackers on one side and his mug on the other, and 
refreshed so effectually that on the return he soon dis- 
missed the landscape and the horses from his view, 
closed his eyes, and spent an hour or so in profound 
meditation, I suppose, on the folly of the total abstainers. 
The horses knew the way, and ho let them have it. He 
did not nod, but sat bolt upright, as if the "hale," 
which had soothed and comforted him, had in its prog- 
ress stomach ward become an iron rod. 

After a drive of seven miles or so, we approached a 
long, steep ascent, showing for miles on each hand a fine 
spread of farms divided by hedge-rows, some of the 
fields green as emerald, some yellow as gold, some wav- 
ing with orchards or with parks of trees, and our driver 
remarked, " That's Brede '111," and by the time we had 
reached the top of the ascent the horses were wet with 
sweat and quite willing to rest. At the entrance to the 
town was Brede Church, a massive and very venerable 
edifice, and so old that the inscriptions on the tomb- 
stones, in many instances, were eaten into utter illegi- 
bility. The edifice looked as if it was left pretty much 
to itself. The village consisted of some twenty or thirty 
houses that must have been built since the flood or else 
they would have been washed away. They were gen- 
erally a story and a half high, some of them thatched 
with straw, some of them roofed with tiles, and many of 
them w T ith straw in part and tiles in part. The town 
was evidently inhabited, for we saw a man shoeing a 
horse, and some chickens running about, and a cat or 
two purring quietly in an open door ; but few other 



BREDE. 117 

signs of life were visible. A sleepier old fossil of a place 
we had never seen. It' struck us that if the slumbers of 
the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus had been disturbed, this 
town would have been a good place for them to finish 
their nap in. Our hope was to find some person of edu- 
cation to aid us in our quest. We, therefore, asked for 
a lawyer, and you should have seen the look of surprise 
the question evoked. A lawyer ! They seemed never 
to have heard of the species. The people evidently 
lived in a state of Edenic innocence. We then told the 
driver to move on to the house of the rector. Unfort- 
unately, the rector was not well, and we could not see 
him. We learned afterward that the " living" had been 
recently sold, and that, as we drove up in our splendid 
equipage, we were suspected as the happy purchaser, 
impatient to take a look at his property. We were in- 
formed, however, that in ail probability the curate could 
aid us in our researches, and driving to his house we 
found him in a neat cottage at the end of the village. 
It was by no means early in the day, and yet we fear 
that we disturbed his slumbers, for it was long ere he 
presented himself. lie had probably been out most of 
the night ministering to some sick or dying parishioner. 
But when he appeared he received us with all politeness, 
and cheerfully furnished us with all the information in 
his possession, which, unfortunately, was none at all. 
He knew nothing of any records, secular or ecclesias- 
tical, historical or traditional. So far as we could learn, 
the town never had any origin, but just growed, like 
Topsy, and surely it was topsy-turvey enough to justify 
the suspicion of such an origin. From the curate's we 
drove a couple of miles to Brede Hall, a fine old man- 
sion, built, says the guide-book, by the Alteforde family 
in the time of Edward III. But here our information 



118 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

was limited to one extraordinary fact. In the early days 
of its existence the hall was inhabited by a giant, who 
breakfasted and dined on grown people, and took babies 
for his supper. The inhabitants of Brede found this 
fellow and his habits inconvenient, and were long at 
their wits' end to devise means for his abatement. At 
last they succeeded in alluring him to a whiskey barrel, 
from which he drank so freely that a deep sleep fell 
upon him, during which the people came together and 
sawed him in two, after which he gave them no more 
trouble. The place of this sanguinary performance was 
" Groaning Bridge, in Stubbs's Lane," and this was the 
only historical fact we secured respecting the town of 
Brede. 



BATTLE ABBEY. 

The event that did most to immortalize the city of Hast- 
ings was the great battle that made England the England 
it has become within the last thousand years. One bright 
day at the close of September, 1066, the sentinels of 
Harold from their watch-tower in the Castle of Hastings 
saw the fleet of William sweep by toward Pevensy, 
where he disembarked his army. As he leaped ashore a 
fearful omen threw a chill over his hosts ; his foot 
slipped, and after a variety of gymnastic efforts to re- 
cover self-possession, he fell flat on the ground with both 
hands sprawling. Seeing this, the soldiers shuddered, 
and concluded that even the blessing of the Pope could 
hardly bear up against such an omen. But William was 
quite equal to the occasion. Leaping to his feet, with 



BATTLE ABBEY. 119 

both hands full of sand, he exclaimed : " Thus I take 
possession of England !" A shout from the army- 
showed that the chill of apprehension had given place to 
a fever of enthusiasm. The next day Hastings saw the 
great host come on, William on his war-horse in the 
lead, the banner blessed by the Pope, the proprietor of 
the world, waving over him ; fifty thousaiid knights and 
ten thousand soldiers of lower rank following ; the chiv- 
alry of Europe eager to save their souls by fighting for 
His Holiness. On they came, and Hastings, chief of 
the Cinque Ports by reason of her valor in defending 
England from invasion, this time opened her gates to the 
invader. 

Seven miles out from Hastings a well insulated penin- 
sula, jutting southward into a valley that sinks before it 
on three sides, furnished an almost impregnable position 
for the army of Harold. At the bottom of the peninsula 
ran a little stream, and on the heights beyond the ban- 
ners of the Normans filled the air. 

Between the armies as they frowned upon one another 
across the ravine, stood two pillars of cloud, both of 
them dark on the side of Harold, and bright on the side 
of "William. One was the banner blessed by the Pope, 
the sign and seal of his bestowal upon "William of Eng- 
land and all it contained. In those days the Pope wore 
an ample robe, full of pockets, and the pockets full of 
cardinalates, bishoprics, deaneries, kingdoms, provinces, 
and to the hosts of promising applicants he said : " All 
these will I give to those who fall down aiid worship 
me." 

One day he took Ireland out of his pocket and gave it 
to Henry II. One day he took England away from 
King John, and only gave it back to him on condition 
that he pay a large annual tribute. Now, he had given 



120 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

England to William, and many an English warrior that 
day went into battle with the chill of the Pope's ban in 
his bones. Another cloud threw light upon the Nor- 
mans and darkness into the Saxon camp. This was an 
oath William had extorted from Harold while he had 
him in his power in Normandy. William had scoured 
the country far and wide for holy relics, bones and skulls 
of saints, locks of hair and finger-nails, finger-joints and 
toe-joints, and what-not of holy martyrs. These he put 
in a chest, and on the chest a cloth of gold, and on the 
cloth a prayer-book — the Bible was not sacred enough 
for his dread purpose — and on the book Harold, ignorant 
of the holy horrors beneath, had sworn to aid in convey- 
ing the realm to William when Edward should be called 
away. And now that oath on those holy relics stood be- 
tween the two armies, a. star of hope to the invading 
Normans, and a dread anathema to the patriot defenders 
of home and fireside. 

Saturday, the 14th of October, came, and with it 
the battle. In front of the Normans rode the Min- 
strel Taillefer on a swift horse, singing the lay of 
Charlemagne, of Roland the Brave, and of the peers 
that died at Roncesvalles, throwing up his sword and 
catching it as it came down, when an Englishman met 
him, grappled with him in deadly light, and in a few 
moments Taillefer lay dead on the field ; and such a 
shout of triumph went up from the English hosts as 
frightened the birds from the scene. Now followed 

" Battle's magnificently stern array ! 

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent, 
The earth is covered thick with other clay, 

Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, 

Rider and horse, friend and foe, in one red burial blent !" 

Three horses had fallen under the duke. An arrow 



BATTLE ABBEY. 121 

struck Harold in the eye, but he pulled it out and 
fought on. A blow on his helmet felled him to the 
ground, and as he attempted to rise a stroke from the 
sword of a knight cut his thigh through to the bone, 
and he lay dead beneath a heap of his faithful soldiery. 
On the spot where the Dragon Banner of the Saxons 
went down rose the High Altar of Battle Abbey. 

The Sabbath dawned upon the scene of blood and 
death, and women came in troops, the noble of the land, 
to seek the bodies of husband and son for burial. On 
this very spot Battle Abbey was built to commemorate 
the victory — Battle Abbey, with its great gateway, 
towers, ranges of now toppling wall, dormitory, refec- 
tory, court-house, cloister, crypt and what-not. Deter- 
mined that this monument should be every way worthy 
of the event it commemorated, William secured for it 
every privilege an abbey could possess. Not only was 
the abbot sole sovereign within its bounds ; not only 
was every fugitive from justice free the moment he set 
foot within those precincts ; but the abbot, if anywhere 
in the kingdom he came upon a culprit, no matter if the 
rope were already round his neck, by one word could 
set the prisoner free ! 

One cannot read this story of the Abbot of Battle 
Abbey without thinking of another and greater, coming 
with dyed garments from Bozrah, travelling in the great- 
ness of His strength, who, if a penitent sinner find Him 
anywhere in the wide, wide world, can, by one word 
from His divine lips, put into the freedman's month the 
shout, " There is now therefore no condemnation." 



122 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 



THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 



The Isle of "Wight is not large ; it is literally just 
" the size of a piece of chalk." For we believe it is 
simply a mass of chalk. In shape it is a sort of buckler, 
with numerous steep-sided downs for bosses. 

These downs, by which we mean heights, abound in 
nodules of flint larger and smaller, which are utilized as 
building-stones, and anything more apparently time- 
defying than this material can hardly be imagined. 
The walls of many fine buildings in England consist of 
stone that crumbles steadily and visibly. For example, 
the slender shafts in the cloister- walls of Westminster 
Abbey are many of them eaten almost through, and the 
corbels that once smiled as winged, chubby baby-heads, 
or leered with fantastic gargoyle contortions, are so liter- 
ally defaced, that nothing is left but a smooth, feature- 
less knob, which the imagination may shape for itself ad 
libitum. A curious instance of this defacement and im- 
aginative reconstruction is seen in the present symbol of 
the Inner Temple, London. The original symbol of the 
Knights of St. John, whose premises these Templars of 
the law now occupy, was a horse with two men astride, 
to indicate the poverty of those holy men. But Time 
with his merciless mallet so mauled the two men in the 
stone effigy, that a sharp-sighted antiquarian, wishing to 
reproduce the well-nigh vanished figures, being himself 
a little flighty perhaps, mistook the men for wings, and 
cut the Pegasus, which has since been and is now the 
coat-of-arms of these Templars of the Bar. Thus while 
the two men on the Templars' nag metaphorically " took 
to themselves wings" and flew away, they literally be- 



THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 123 

came wings to quicken the gait of their equine bearer. 
This, however, is slightly digressive, and we return to 
our subject, simply to add that to all appearances, if Old 
Time should try his teeth on the silica cobble-stones of 
these downs, he would find himself biting a file. 

A series of these chalky downs form a kind of humpy 
backbone, extending east and west through the centre of 
the island. The sides of these eminences are, in the 
summer, at least, well flecked with white sheep and black 
crows, the latter style of bird being much the more 
numerous. As you drive along, the sheep look up for a 
moment, and then resume their meditative nibbling, and 
the crows rise in a black cloud, soon again to resume 
their watchful attendance upon the sheep, accompanied 
also by other birds, which sometimes for variety of loco- 
motion, instead of flying or walking, make a " •bus' ' of 
some patient sheep, and ride free of charge upon his 
back. 

Traces of our amiable and gentle ancestors, the Druids, 
with their white-clad priests and silver knife, in quest of 
mistletoe, survive in this island, and also of the Romans, 
and of the Saxons, and of the Danes. Some Roman gen- 
tleman who had somehow acquired a fortune, came to this 
isle to spend it, and erected near Brading a villa, and 
dropped some of his coin, which have been recovered, 
encased in a frame, and are now, in return for English 
sixpences, shown to visitors, with other relics of the 
same. The house was burned, and the iron hinges of 
the doors so softened by the heat that they were welded 
at the joint. By these hinges we see that at the time of 
the fire the door of one room was about one third of the 
way open, the hinges being welded in that position, and 
the door of another room was shut, as the welded hinges 
show. Curious mute tell-tales these iron hinges of 



12-i ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

scenes of wild confusion in a human abode so many cen- 
turies ago ; the alarm, the shriek, the flight, and the des- 
olated home ! There, too, in the centre of the island is 
Carisbrooke Castle, in its royal position on a high, steep- 
sided mound some two hundred and forty feet above the 
level of the sea, the prison of King Charles while 
pressed by the forces of the Parliament. 

BONCHOECH. 

We have often thought that if the doctrine of trans- 
migration of souls were true, we should try so to live as 
not to be sent into an omnibus horse ; and after a day or 
so at Bonchurch, we added " and of all omnibus horses, 
not one of Bonchurch ;" for his up-hill drags strain every 
muscle to the last degree, and his down-hill hold-backs 
do the same, and he is always tugging up hills that are 
only not perpendicular, or propping his legs to keep the 
" 'bus" from running him down the descent. But a 
conversation with an experienced and intelligent driver 
changed all our ideas on the snbject. " For, ye see, the 
'oss is alius a-goin' hup the 'ill or down the 'ill, so 'e 
cahn't do nothink but walk. Well, w'en 'e's a-goin' 
hup, 'is muscles is strained one way ; an' w'en 'e's 
a-goin' down, they is strained the bother way. An' 
this keeps 'em heven, you see. So w'ile the London 
'osses gives out in two y'ahs, the Bonchurch 'osses lasts 
ten y'ahs or fifteen y'ahs. Now this 'oss as I'm a-drivin' 
hon — w'y, 'e's been a-goin' now thirteen y'ahs come 
next Haugust. " So we have rescinded our exception to 
— though we do not quite pine to become — a Bonchurch 
" 'bus" horse. 

Bonchurch occupies a portion of " Undercliff." It 
seems that many years ago a strip of land some seven 
miles long, and from a quarter of a mile to a mile wide, 



THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 125 

lying along the extreme south-eastern shore of the Isle 
of Wight, sank down some hundreds of feet, leaving be- 
hind it a sheer cliff, and behind that chalk-hills seven 
hundred or eight hundred feet high. These hills are 
called "downs." Why such lofty heights are called 
dow7is is explained by the fact that "downs" is a cor- 
ruption of " dunes," which means sand-hills. In the 
descent of this tract of land there was anything but 
unanimity among the various sections. Some portions 
went very far down, and some not so far. Here and 
there a vast mass of rock refused to accompany the 
neighboring earth, and still stands in majestic isolation, 
bristling now with shrubbery and waving with ivy. The 
result was a surface about as varied as one can imagine. 
By and by the Celt came (if he were not there already), 
and the Saxon, the Dane, the Norman, and their chil- 
dren. One of them finding a terrace far up, and big 
enough, built a beautiful villa, surrounding it with high 
walls to keep the children from falling off, which walls 
the eager ivy imbedded with its luxuriance, and among 
the ivy, wild flowers built their bright nests. This 
process was repeated on a terrace lower down, and this 
by others east, west, north, and south. Then these walls 
were connected, and streets were evolved — streets wind- 
ing in short distances to every point of the compass — 
streets made up almost exclusively of those sharp ascents 
and almost precipitous descents so favorable to the 
health, comfort, and longevity of omnibus horses. 

This portion of the island is called the " Madeira of 
England." Its climate is mild and balmy. The sea in 
the summer calm, both in its hue and in the bluish haze 
that hangs over it, constantly reminds one of the Bay of 
Naples, and the vegetation is simply imperial in richness 
and variety. No winter frosts kill, no summer heats 



126 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

consume, no droughts exhaust. Nourished with moist- 
ure, nurtured with perpetual mildness of temperature, 
vegetation finds here another Paradise. Yesterday I 
saw a rose geranium trained against a wall and full four- 
teen feet high, and all aglow with flowers, and a fuchsia 
bush full ten feet high. In the summer the hedges are 
alive with wild flowers, and more than fifty species of 
garden flowers have been counted in bloom in Decem- 
ber. The high walls that hem in the grounds and form 
the sides of the streets are not only mantled, but deluged 
with ivy. Ivy grows along the ground, climbs the trees, 
flows over the walls, and hangs down in luxuriant cur- 
tains often a foot deep on the top of the wall. Fre- 
quently as you pass along a street your head is on a level 
with chimney-tops on one side, while it is below the sur- 
face of a garden on the other. You are all the time run- 
ning into surprises. Surrounded with profuse vegeta- 
tion, ivy-hung trees, and walls buried in green, you feel 
as if you were in a lonely wilderness. In a few moments 
an opening in the wall shows you a carriage road, as 
usual between two high massive walls. Following it, you 
are amazed to find yourself on a spacious plateau and in 
a fairy scene of grounds sparkling with flowers and under 
most tasteful cultivation, and in the midst of all a beau- 
tiful mansion. Early one evening we passed through a 
gate under an arch, or rather through a tunnel of mas- 
sive masonry. It looked as if we might be making our 
way into a dungeon. At the other end, however, we 
emerged into a wide and lovely expanse of lawn, grove, and 
garden ; here a large circle inclosed with a wire screen, 
the screen wreathed with flowering plants ; there a high 
wall lined with wall-fruit — peaches, apricots, apples, and 
pears ; here a path disappears in a bower of branches in- 
terlacing overhead, and at the other end leading you out 



THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 127 

on the edge of the cliff above the sea ; and in the midst 
of all a mansion, with greenhouse full of fine tropical 
plants, and festoons of delicate vines hanging from the 
ceiling. To-day, seeing a narrow gateway in the street 
wall, I entered, ascended ninety-nine stone steps, and 
found myself in a lane, walled of course on each side, 
floored with asphalt, and openings on each hand, here 
into a garden behind a house, and there into a flower- 
clad yard in front of another. We have since learned 
that the stairway- of stone is " Jacob's Ladder," and the 
narrow lane at the top is " Balaam's Path." The floor 
of the room we occupy is higher than the top of new 
Bonchurch steeple, scarce a stone's throw distant from 
us. On the other side of new Bonchurch, and very near 
at hand, is old Bonchurch, whose roof is a good way be- 
low the foundations of the former. For rambling or 
rest, for luxuriant beauty of grove and garden, for sheer 
precipice and superlative richness of landscape, and sea- 
view from terrace and hill-crest, we have so far seen 
nothing equal to Bonchurch. 

ELIZABETH AND LITTLE JANE. 

Who could spend a week or two, even at Bonchurch, 
and not take a tour of eight or ten hours in tallyho or 
wagonette ? On one of the most delightful of days in 
this most delightful climate, a pleasant breeze blowing, 
the landscape lovingly umbrellaed by smiling clouds that 
took turns in the task of keeping the direct sunbeams 
from our faces, we took a circuit of twenty miles or 
more, setting out eastward and returning southward. 
Soon we were riding along the edge of perpendicular 
cliffs hundreds of feet high, that with their white, semi- 
circular sweep, form the northern and western edge of 
the lovely Sandown Bay. It is very lovely just now, 



128 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

but on a Sunday in March six years ago a wild wail went 
across those waters into the ears of horror-stricken people 
on the shore. A ship, Her Majesty's training-ship 
Eurydice, just home from the West Indies, was caught 
in a squall, capsized, and went down, carrying to death 
more than three hundred men and boys. Two only of 
the crew were saved. The shores are lined with seaside 
resorts, and the beach alive with promenaders, and bare- 
legged children shouting and revelling in the mellow 
air. 

And now we come to one of a considerable number of 
"chines" or chinks; that is, juvenile canons, with 
which the precipitous coast of the isle is split. This one 
is " Lnccombe" Chine, a deep, dark, moist, mossy, per- 
pendicular-sided ravine abounding with ferns, and shrub- 
bery clinging to the side, well-worn stairways letting you 
down and then up, the whole chine cut out of the chalky 
soil by the patient action of a not very stalwart stream, 
which is still working away as if the morning of its life 
was nowhere near the meridian. 

On we move to Brading, to see, not the old stocks 
which are carefully preserved, in which in other days the 
good people fastened the ankles of folks to make them 
walk straight, nor the whipping-post, to which they 
chained men to " correct" them, not the old church built 
in far-back centuries, with its superannuated doorway 
and its painted wooden effigies of " the Oglanders, " but 
to see the memorials of a poor peasant girl. "We had 
stood with bared head in the cold by the magnificent 
mausoleum of the Duke of Wellington, in St. Paul's, 
London, and in Canterbury by the splendid monument 
of the Black Prince, and in Westminster Abbey, where 
poets, statesmen and orators stand in marble on every 
side ; but to-day in spirit we bare both head and feet 



THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 129 

beside the grave of a Christian child, and before a tomb- 
stone on which we read : 

Sacred 

to the Memory of 

LITTLE JANE, 

who died 30th Jan'y, 1799, 

in the 13 th year of her age. 

Ye who the power of God delight to trace, 
And mark with joy each monument of grace, 
Tread lightly o'er this grave as ye explore 
The short and simple annals of the poor. 
A child reposes underneath this sod ; 
A child to memory dear, and dear to God. 
Bcjoice ! Yet shed the sympathetic tear ; 
" Jane," the young cottager, lies buried here. 

"Who has not read Legh Richmond's exquisite narra- 
tive of the " Young Cottager" ? If any who read 
these lines have not, let them secure a dozen copies of 
the tract, and keep one for perusal, and give the others 
to any who in the profusion of contemporary literature 
have been so unfortunate as to have missed these pre- 
cious pages. 

From the churchyard we made our way to the cottage. 
We have visited Windsor Castle, and gone through its 
painted halls without half the interest we felt as we 
entered the wicket gate of this cottage, walked the short 
flower-lined path, went in under the overhanging straw 
roof-thatch, beneath the arched bower of honeysuckle 
into the one room on the lower floor, with its large stone 
fireplace, up the narrow, winding stairs into the little 
chamber, with the little shelf three inches wide and three 
feet long projecting from the huge old chimney jamb, 
on which Little Jane kept her Bible and her medicines. 
From this spot, in this room Legh Richmond looked 
upon that picture well worthy of the pencil of some 



130 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

Christian artist ; the pale child lying in a semi-slumber 
brought on by exhaustion, her thin finger on the words 
in her open Testament, " Lord, remember me when 
Thou comest into Thy kingdom." Questioning whether 
this might not be accidental, he waited till the child, 
partially aroused, said in a feeble whisper, "Lord, re- 
member me — remember me — remember a poor child — 
Lord, remember me," then starting up, her pale cheek 
Hushed as her eye caught sight of her faithful pastor. 

The present occupant of the cottage, a woman bent 
with age, seemed to take an affectionate interest in 
everything that pertained to the Christian child that 
went to heaven from those humble precincts more than 
eighty years ago. A constant stream of Christian people- 
enters the door of that humble cottage. " A gentleman 
came here this morning," said the aged woman, "and 
he looked about a while, and then just here where little 
Jane's bed stood he made a beautiful prayer." 

From the cottage of Little Jane we drove up the 
steep, chalky down, every few yards opening fresh beau- 
ties to our view, until from the crest of Ashey Down 
one of the loveliest views on the isle lay before us. A 
valley some six miles wide, walled in toward the south 
by other downs, miles and miles of steep hill-side, car- 
peted with a very short, thick, chalky-green turf, flocks 
of sheep, herds of cattle, crows innumerable, fields of 
every hue bounded by hedgerows, in which wild flowers 
were sparkling, little villages with church-spires shooting 
up from out a grove, clumps of heavily foliaged trees — ■ 
the perfection of a summer landscape. Further on, 
Hyde came into view to the north-east, and Spithead, 
with war vessels at anchor and peace vessels in motion, 
and Portsmouth, and nearer by the Cowes, East and 
West, and the towers of Osborne, just now populous 



THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 131 

with royalty — the Queen with children and grand-chil- 
dren, the Crown Prince of Prussia with his family, and 
nian # y more. But through all this glory of land and 
water, our eyes were constantly questioning the land- 
scape for the cottage where the young queen unto God, 
the dairyman's daughter, liv r ed and died some eighty 
years ago. At length, down in the valley to the south, 
a cluster of house-tops among the trees indicated the 
spot where Arreton nestles, and the top of a square stone 
tower proclaimed the whereabouts of the churchyard 
where the dust of the Christian maid lies slumbering. 
The church was built three hundred and fifty-one years 
before Columbus set foot on the shores of America. 
The pew inclosures are so high, that only the foreheads 
of the taller ones of the congregation could be seen by 
the preacher, and so well worn were they by friction with 
time and with the backs of the occppants, that not only 
can you see through them in many places, but put your 
finger through them. The sexton, though not quite as old 
as the church, is one of the j oiliest old ruins we have come 
across. The blood of five hundred years of sextonship 
runs in his veins, and he has filled this distinguished 
office so long, that he must before many years pass give 
place to a successor. He recites with rushing volubility, 
and to his own intense satisfaction, the quaint, half- 
defaced inscriptions on the tombstones, but in a peasant 
patois rather more illegible than the inscription itself. 
One of these is written thus : 

Here is ye buried under this grave 
Harry Hawks, his soule God save, 
Long tyrne steward of the Yle of Wyght. 
Have m'cy on hym, God ful of myght. 

But these were not the epitaphs we came to read, but 
this : 



132 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

To 

the Memory of 
ELIZABETH WALLBRIDGEV 

The Dairyman's Daughter, 

Aged 31 years. 

" She being dead, yet speaketh." 

Stranger, if e'er by chance or feeling led, 
Upon this hallowed turf thy footsteps tread, 
Turn from the contemplation of the sod, 
And think on her whose spirit rests with God. 
Lowly her lot on earth, but He who bore 
Tidings of grace and blessing to the poor 
Gave her — His truth and faithfulness to prove — 
The choicest treasures of His boundless love : 
Faith, that dispelled afflictions darkest gloom ; 
Hope, that could cheer the passage to the tomb : 
Peace, that not hell's dark legions could destroy ; 
And Love, that filled the soul with heavenly joy. 
Death of its sting disarmed, she knew no fear, 
But tasted heaven e'en while she lingered here. 
O happy saint ! may we, like thee, be blest — 
In life be faithful, and in death find rest ! 

For many generations the Canterbury Pilgrims went, 
singly or in larger or smaller companies, to the shrine of 
Becket, to see the spot where so many Roman Catholic 
" miracles" were effected, and to put in their spiritual 
purses some gold grains of religious merit. But such 
pilgrimages came to an end long ago. For a generation 
or two the tourists to lovely Grasmere have been im- 
pelled thither, in part at least, by an instinctive respect 
for the genius of Wordsworth, whose mortal remains lie 
there in unadorned sepulture. And it is to the credit of 
the Christian heart that the tenderest sentiments of piety 
and respect, eighty years after their burial, should con- 
tinue to impel a steady train of pilgrims from every part 
of the Christian world to the homes and the graves of 
these two poor, pious peasant maids. It is a little sur- 



SAKUM OLD AND NEW. 133 

prising that some Christian association, or some company 
of Christian ladies, or some person of piety and wealth, 
has not purchased these cottages, that they might be 
kept forever as memorials at once of Legh Richmond's 
pastoral fidelity and as illustrations of 

" The short and simple annals of the poor." 



SARUM OLD AND NEW. 

Few readers of English history are not familiar at least 
with the name of " Old Sarum." Before the passage of 
the first great Parliamentary Reform bill, Old Sarum, 
two miles or so from New Sarum, alias Salisbury, 
formed one of the " pocket" constituencies in which at 
last six voters sent two members to Parliament ! We 
are left to imagine the excitement of one of those elec- 
tions in Old Sarum. What mass meetings, what torch- 
light processions of those six voters ! What golden ora- 
tions were addressed to the reason and conscience of that 
noble array of electors by the political Chrysostoms of 
the day ! How rich the honor of sitting in Parliament 
as representatives of Old Sarum ! But let us first pay 
our respects to the 

WHITE HART, 

from beneath whose spreading antlers we set out on our 
visit to Old Sarum. There he stood, " as large as life 
and twice as natural," on the roof-ridge of the imposing 
portico of our hotel in Salisbury. That same white hart 
is a curious instance of the impression upon even a 
nation things apparently very trivial may make. Dur- 



134: ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

ing tlie reign of Richard II. a white stag was caught, so 
it was said, in Windsor Forest, with a collar on its neck 
bearing the inscription, "Nemo me tangat / Ccesaris 
sum" — " Touch me not ; I belong to the king." At a 
tournament some time after, a badge bearing a white 
hart as a device was given to the contestants from the 
mother of King Richard ; and as the red rose, from a 
stock brought originally from Palestine, became the 
badge of Henry IV., who secured the deposition and 
probably the assassination of Richard, and usurped his 
crown, so the white hart became the badge of Rich- 
ard II. and his adherents in all parts of the realm. It 
appeared on banners, badges, pictures, and tavern signs ; 
and with such tenacity did his adherents cling to this 
symbol, that Henry had vastly more difficulty in sup- 
pressing it than he had in suppressing the king. It has 
recently been found painted in a church at Epsvorth, and 
it also appears in colossal size in Westminster Abbey on 
the screen between the Muniment Room and the south- 
ern triforium of the nave. Under the shadow of the 
" white hart" at the well-known and popular hotel of 
this name in Salisbury, we spent some very pleasant 
hours. Thence we drove to 

OLD SARUM. 

Conceive an isolated circular mound more than three 
hundred feet high, in a wide level plain, the base of the 
mound covering an area of seventy-live acres. On the 
top of the mound sits a great castle with banners flying 
over its battlements. Nestling under the walls of the 
castle is a great cathedral two hundred and seventy feet 
long, with transept one hundred and fifty feet in 
length, and the whole shut in with an ample close. 
Cathedral, close, and castle are alive with a population 



8ARUM OLD AND NEW. 135 

ecclesiastical, military, and social. Radiating from the 
castle are the streets of a small but populous city— the 
whole, city and castle, shut in from the plain by walls 
twelve feet thick at the base, and on each side of this 
wall a very wide, deep ditch, filled with water. This is 
Old Sarum in its prime ; that is, nearly three hundred 
years before America was discovered. To-day mound 
and ditch, cathedral and castle site are mantled with 
turf, and tenanted by nibbling sheep, and trampled over 
by curious travellers. 

Standing on the crest of the outer rim of this great 
mound, with the remains of the ancient wall buried deep 
under the dust of ages, beneath the feet, you look with 
some feeling of dizziness into the steep-sided ditch on 
each hand. Much more is this the case when you look 
from the crest of the inner mound into the vast fosse or 
ditch that yawns at its base. 

The visitor climbs the inner acclivity and enters the 
basin once partially filled by the castle, between two 
great, shaggy towers of masonry, composed of flint 
stones compacted together as tenaciously as if flint had 
been welded to flint. Obviously these jagged masses of 
masonry are the remains of the huge portal of ages ago, 
over whose threshold kings and queens have passed, 
under whose lintel soldiers marched before Columbus 
was born. In at that gate Alfred the Great has gone, 
and William the Norman, and Henry 1. Around it sav- 
age war has raged, and rivers of blood have flowed. 
Those old walls heard sonorous Latin sentences roll from 
the lips of Roman soldiers, and felt their ears tingle with 
the oaths and curses, the shriek and groan, of Briton, 
Saxon, and Dane. 

As we looked on those defiant masses of flint, the 
spirit of the desolating Dane or the marauding Vandal 



130 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

came upon us, unci we resolved to help on the work of 
destruction by detaching a specimen of the masonry, and 
conveying it to America. We have one of Cleopatra's 
Needles, and why not one of those flint-stones — perhaps 
one that some juvenile Briton of old threw from behind 
a bush at a passing Roman soldier ? With a heavy stone 
in one hand, we attacked the pile, and at once made a 
deep, painful, and somewhat lasting impression — not ex- 
actly on the work of those doughty masons of the olden 
time, but on a finger which somehow got between the 
colliding flints, and for the thousandth time blood flowed 
on the heights of Old Sarum. But now the assailant's 
blood was up, and the upshot was a prize that came 
safely across the sea, and unscathed through the Custom 
House ; for our Government imposes no duty on ruins, 
as we have none at home to " protect." Aware of this, 
we proposed to our good friend, Mr. Hall, of Canter- 
bury, to contract for one of those ivied arches, to be set 
up again, stone for stone, in Fairmount Park. I fear, 
from the countenance of my friend, that he detected a 
tinge of sacrilege in the very thought. lie replied with 
a solemn tone, " Wouldn't you like to take also the 
colli n and monument of the Black Prince?"' This we 
declined, as we were not sure that we had not on our 
shores a goodly supply of black princes, who were yet 
alive, and destined to grand work in the world, and one 
such prince is worth a score or two of the sort they have 
in the Canterbury Cathedral. 

What Christian is not familiar with the " Shepherd of 
Salisbury Plain" ? And from the heights of Old Sarum, 
Salisbury Plain lies before the eye in all its breadth and 
beauty. In one direction Salisbury nestles around the 
beautiful cathedral, the successor and heir of the once 
towering Cathedral of Old Sarum, with its spire more 



SARUM OLD AND NEW. 137 

than four hundred feet high, rich in decoration and fault- 
less in proportion. In the other directions the blue sky, 
flecked with glorious white clouds, curves down and 
forms the horizon ten or fifteen miles away. The whole 
included circle is spread with a carpet of a many-hued 
pattern — pastures, grain-fields, ripe wheat awaiting the 
sickle, sheepfolds, and flocks under watch and ward of 
the gentle, intelligent shepherd-dog. The picture pho- 
tographs itself upon the mind iu deathless colors and 
lines, lights and shades. 

Old Sarum, as a ruin, possesses peculiar interest in the 
fact that the ruin is so complete. No massive donjon- 
keep, no ranges of towering wall, as at Raglan Castle, 
lift themselves in resolute protest against the fatal decree 
of destruction. Not even ivy-clad relics of past great- 
ness, as at the castles of Hastings and Chepstow, survive. 
The overthrow is complete and confessed. Like one of 
those bronze knights under the Norman dome of the 
Temple Church, London, as in many another church and 
abbey, clad in mail, eyes closed, arms folded, and one 
leg thrown over the other, Old Sarum lies in final repose 
beneath the accumulated dust of ages, and lovingly 
wrapped in nature's green, flower-flecked coverlet. 
Could the one so long buried find voice to speak out of 
its sepulchre, it would tell of stirring scenes around that 
centre while Titus was beating down the walls of Jerusa- 
lem with his resistless battering-rams — tell how the son 
of Cedric the Saxon, more than thirteen hundred years 
ago, hung his victorious banners from its battlements ; 
how, more than nine hundred years ago, under King 
Edgar, a Saxon Witenagemot sat in its halls ; how eight 
hundred and eighty years ago, the father of Canute the 
Dane desolated the town, though the castle defied his 
wrath and power. Nor would the voice have finished its 



138 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

varied and thrilling tale till many an exciting volume 
Lad been rilled. 

In 1076 William the Conqueror assembled here all the 
great ones of the realm to do homage to him, and submit 
their lands to the yoke of military tenure. In 1126 
Henry I., now growing old, gathered the prelates and 
barons of the land at Old Sarum to swear allegiance to his 
son William. Alas ! that son William was destined to a 
watery shroud before he felt the purple hanging from his 
shoulders. Four years after this scene at Sarum, Henry, 
with his son and court, were in Normandy. They em- 
barked for England. The ship which bore the king and 
his party was in the advance. Following the royal ship 
was the White Ship, bringing Prince William and his 
companions. Nothing could exceed the hilarious gayety 
of the embarkation ; banners fluttered in the air, and 
music filled the ear of the giddy throng. But suddenly 
a fearful chorus of shrieks broke from deck and cabin of 
the ill-fated White Ship. She had run upon a rock. 
Rapidly filling, she went down with all on board ! Two 
days after, a breathless messenger broke the fearful tid- 
ings to the king. The shock brought him insensible to 
the ground, and from that hour no one ever saw a smile 
upon the face of King Henry I. 

But strong as were the walls of Old Sarum, and brill- 
iant as had been its career, the hour of its doom arrived. 
Chronic internal dissensions between the military and 
the ecclesiastics, at last induced the bishop to order the 
removal of the cathedral. In 1220 the erection of the 
present cathedral at Salisbury was begun, and in 1225 
the new edifice was ready for consecration ; and now be- 
gan the decay of Old Sarum, a decay which went on till 
sheep and cows were the only occupants of the spot 
where Celt had dwelt, the Roman had pitched his tent, 



SARUM OLD AND NEW. 130 

the Saxon had waved his dragon gonfalon, and the Nor- 
man had assembled his retainers ; where kings had held 
court, ladies danced, and courtiers revelled. 

The cathedral at Salisbury may be said to be the ceno- 
taph of Old Sarura, and a beautiful cenotaph it is. Its 
magnitude, its fine transepts, the larger eastern one and 
the smaller western one seemingly growing out of rather 
than built into the body of the edifice ; the tower and 
spire fortified with buttress and clusters of flying but- 
tresses ; and within, that sweep of great clustered pillars 
separating nave and aisle and supporting triforium and 
clerestory, and that exceedingly beautiful screen, not as 
the one in "Westminster Abbey, a massive obstruction to 
the view and destroyer of the impressiveness of the vast 
interior, but wrought of open-work in the highest style 
of .mechanic art, and allowing the eye free range from 
one end of the nave to the other ; all together make it 
richly worthy the encomium of Dean Stanley, who pro- 
nounced it " all glorious without," and he might safely 
have added " and richly glorious within." 

Then there is the curious and beautiful chapter house, 
" in which," gravely added the verger, " Cromwell 
stabled his horses." The dimensions of the cavalry arm 
of Cromwell's army are strangely ignored by the histo- 
rians. It must have comprised at least one hundred 
thousand horses and men. It enhances our estimate of 
Crom well's greatness to find that, in addition to all his 
other duties, he could take care of so many horses. There 
is scarcely a regulation verger in England who will not 
assure you that Cromwell stabled his horses in some part 
of abbey or cathedral. Indeed, according to these gen- 
tlemen, most of the cathedral and abbey ruin in the 
kingdom was due to Cromwell. It is strange that the 
intelligent authorities in these edifices do not put a stop 



140 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

to the parroting of this nonsense. Cromwell had West- 
minster Abbey in his hand and nnder his eye, and not 
only did he stable no horses in it, but we have the au- 
thority of Dean Stanley for saying that the great Pro- 
tector not only protected it but warmly cherished it. Of 
a piece with this style of stereotyj)ed slander is that also 
which charges upon the Puritans all the whitewashing 
that covered up the frescoes in so many of these edifices. 
But Dean Stanley assnres ns that " the practice of white- 
washing was not peculiar to modern times or Protestant 
countries. Even the Norman nave of the abbey was 
whitewashed in the time of Edward III." The inscrip- 
tion over the door of the Cathedral of Toledo assures the 
reader that in a certain year " This holy church was 
repaired and whitewashed by the Archdeacon of Cola- 
trara." 

One Sunday afternoon we attended service in the 
Salisbury Cathedral. A large congregation assembled 
beneath the great spire. In due time the preacher as- 
cended the pulpit and gave out his text. And although 
a worse auditorium could hardly be than the vast space 
of a cathedral, and, in many, many cases only a small 
proportion of the audience hear the speaker, in this case 
the preacher's voice, sonorous as a trumpet, carried his 
distinctly enunciated sentences to every ear in choir, 
nave, and transept. The text that rung out from the 
speaker's lips was, " These shall go away into everlasting 
punishment." And a more faithful, solemn, scriptural 
exposition of this awful doctrine is hardly possible. The 
speaker compelled attention, and the sermon must have 
reached many a heart and life. 



AT LAKE WINDERMERE. 141 



AT LAKE WINDERMERE. 

Belfast was our first tarrying-plaee in Britain, and 
our last is Bowness, on the eastern shore of Lake Winder- 
mere, across the Irish Sea, not many leagues east of Bel- 
fast. Ere we set out from home a much-travelled friend 
advised us to have our digestive organs refitted unless 
we wished to bring from England a well-developed dys- 
pepsia ; and in fact our escape from such a fate is due 
more to the vigor of those organs than to the gastric sol- 
ubility of much of the food committed to their manip- 
ulation, especially the bread. "We are reminded of this 
by what seems to us the singular fact that at Belfast 
bread was set before us — white, light, sweet and every 
way worthy of a true blue Presbyterian stomach, and 
now again at Bowness bread of the same excellent char- 
acter falls to our lot. But from Belfast, through Lon- 
don, Canterbury, Hastings and the Isle of Wight, Bala, 
Chester, and thence to Bowness, the bread was insuper- 
able. Indeed, whenever we asked for bread, they in- 
variably gave us a stone. Had we room in our trunks 
we had thought of importing an average English loaf for 
a paper weight. One thing, however, must be said in 
its favor ; the cutting of it three times a day at the table 
develops the muscles of the arm like drawing one's self 
up on rope-ladders in a gymnasium. A section of one 
of these loaves discloses a series of large caverns, show- 
ing that the raising material, instead of being interfused 
through the mass, had been deposited here and there in 
spots, in which spots it had spent most of its force. In 
other words, the dough needed a great deal more knead- 
ing. Then the dividing walls between these caverns. 



142 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

besides being of an ashy hue, partake of the consistency 
of gutta percha. And the crust ! It will not do to say 
that it is as hard as the flint-stones gathered from the 
chalk downs ; but it is dreadfully flint-like. We have 
not made the experiment, but we venture the surmise 
that in one of those two-story English loaves there are 
more hours of dyspeptic discomfort than there are head- 
aches in a bottle of bad whiskey. If Mr. Gladstone, 
after securing the passage of the Franchise bill by the 
House of Lords, does not introduce a Bread Reform 
bill, it will surely be because the English loaf is too 
hard a material for him to handle. 

In our circuit from Belfast to Windermere we trav- 
elled a good deal on English railways, and we found on 
the great lines, as, say, from Liverpool to London, a 
punctuality, speed and courteousness of conductors that 
left nothing to be desired. Without exception, how- 
ever, on the other lines the trains were seldom punctual 
in setting out, and almost invariably a good while behind 
time in getting in. Besides, in a distance of a hundred 
miles, the number of changes from train to train was 
distressing, and the process still more so. A gentleman 
with a party of ladies arrives, for example, at the station 
at Bristol. The ladies are tired and need to find their 
place in the train that is to bear them on. Of course, 
they have a parcel or two, if not more. They need the 
aid of a gentleman. The distance over the bridge to the 
other platform is not small. But there are the trunks. 
They are not checked. Only a paper label distinguishes 
yours from the others — a label which baggage crushing- 
may easily remove. Preferring your ladies to your lug- 
gage, you accompany them to the other and distant por- 
tion of the station. The moment for the train to move 
draws near, and no sign of your luggage. The ladies 



AT LAKE WINDERMERE. 143 

enter the compartment, keeping the door open, ready at 
a signal to jump out. At the last moment, under a 
mountain of trunks, you discover your own, and enter 
the train. This was precisely our experience one day, 
when, in going less than seventy miles, we had four if 
not five of these changes to endure, and were on the 
way about five hours and a half ! From Hastings to 
Portsmouth we had like experience. In going some 
twenty miles, from Lakeside to Furness Abbey, owing 
to changes and detentions, we spent more than two 
hours. As we were in process of making one of these 
changes an English fellow-sufferer buried the whole 
system under the enormous English superlative — 
"beastly!" 

When we were at Bonchurch, Isle of Wight, we 
thought ourselves in Eden. When we reached the Beau- 
fort Arms at Tinturn, and looked from our windows at 
the rich, green lawn beneath, dappled with gorgeous 
flower-beds, dotted with shrubbery clusters, presided 
over by stately evergreens, among them the curious and 
beautiful Chilian palm ; at the cosey amphitheatre of 
hills that rise so high, and which enfold the languishing 
remains of Tinturn Abbey, beautiful in decay as a clus- 
ter of American oaks and maples in the dying hues of 
autumn, we came to the conclusion that in England 
there were more Edens than one. But when, from the 
windows of the Crown Hotel at Bowness we looked down 
over chimneys and tree-tops upon Lake Windermere, 
especially when standing on the granite scalp of Orrest 
Head, we took in at a glance the whole lake with its 
mountain surroundings, we saw a picture of varied 
beauty not to be indicated by superlatives. 

The lake is a diamond of the first water set in emer- 
alds, as lie alone who gems the sky with stars and the 



144 A HOARD AND ABROAD. 

earth with flowers knows how to set jewels of His own 
creation. It fills with liquid silver a valley lying north 
and south twelve miles, a mile wide in its widest part, 
and in places more than three hundred feet deep. Its 
shore-line is full of freaky impulses, shooting out in one 
place, retiring in another, advancing here on both sides 
as if the two shores would shake hands, leaving a narrow 
passage between them ; then, in a fit of self-assertion, 
pushing itself out on one side and coyly withdrawing on 
the other, these proceedings resulting in a beautiful 
irregularity of outline and shape. Ten or twelve islands, 
green with heavily-foliaged trees, lie on the bosom of 
the lake, and from its margin the scalloped shore rises 
here in grassy slopes as green as green knows how to be ; 
there in gentle acclivities thickly wooded ; here in abrupt 
ascents reaching hundreds of feet toward the clouds. 
The surface of the water is rippled with row-boats, 
flecked with white sails, and churned into foam by the 
dapper little steamers ever plying to and fro, bearing 
passengers in one direction toward Furness Abbej r , and 
in the other toward Ambleside and lovely Grasmere. 

If those "scars," "tarns," "forces," " ghylls," 
"fells," "nabs," pikes, peaks, precipices, pasoes and 
ravines that form the variegated rim around Lake Win- 
dermere were in Germany, they would be all alive with 
the ogres and giants, dragons and griffins of myth and 
legend. But, strange to sa} r , scarce a griffin, goblin or 
ghost ever ventured among the hills that lift their heads 
among these English lakes, and even history seems to 
have steered pretty clear of them. Still they have not 
been wholly neglected. 

Claife Heights, that rise from the water's edge on the 
western side of the lake just opposite Bowness, arc still 
inhabited by the " Crier of Claife." One dark night, 



AT LAKE WINDERMERE. 145 

three hundred years ago, a voice was heard calling for 
the boat. The ferryman put off from the shore, and 
for a time was lost to view ; by and by he returned 
without his expected passenger, but pale as death and 
speechless with horror. Nor did he ever recover from 
his fright, but died in twelve hours without articulating 
a word. For weeks after screams and yells issued from 
the hill, nor did they cease until a friar from Furness 
Abbey, either by sprinkling holy water on the sprite 
or by some other method equally potent, sealed his 
mouth and limited his wanderings to a very narrow 
circle. 

Sitting here upon Orrest Plead, and running the eye 
down the lake and along the course of the river Leven 
that carries the waters from Windermere, Eydal "Water, 
Grasmere and Easedale-Tarn out to sea, there glimmers 
in the distance the silver sheen of Morcambe Bay, that 
on one side, with the Irish Sea on the other, incloses the 
peninsula of which Furness Abbey is the gem. Then 
over Claife Heights the eye is met by the rising ridges of 
Coniston Fells, with their garniture of glen, ravine, 
lakelet and " beck ;" and at the northern extremity the 
Old Man of Coniston, who holds his head high up 
toward the clouds and nods to us his salutation across 
Coniston Water and Windermere. Farther north and 
west two mountain-nobs together assume the form of a 
lion couchant. This lion has been coucliant a long time, 
and nothing but an earthquake is likely ever to rouse 
him. The parts that make up the lion are the Langdalc. 
Pikes. And nearer still is the Kirkstone Pass, along 
which we went to Ullswater. As we drove through this 
pass our jehu pointed out the " Kirkstone" after which 
the pass was named ; but he could give no account of 
the meaning of the name. AVere the pass in Scotland 



146 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

we should no doubt have been told that in the times of 
Claverhouse or his predecessors in persecution, the 
hunted people gathered around that stone, as a pulpit, 
and listened while the preacher told them the words of 
life. Hence it was called the " Kirk"-stone. But, as 
it was, we suggested to him the probability that the rock 
was one behind which highway robbers hid themselves, 
and one midnight, when Mr. Kirk came by with his hat 
full of diamonds and his pockets full of gold, which he 
had brought from India, they killed him, and now if one 
should go alone through that pass precisely at midnight, 
he would see Mr. Kirk flitting about in the gloom look- 
ing for his life and his treasure. The driver listened 
with evident interest, and it is possible that the narrative 
will become history, and find its way into the journal of 
many an inquisitive tourist. 

Down in the basin beyond Kirkstone Pass is a deep 
lake, named " Brothers' Waters," because twice in the 
course of years two brothers ventured too near, and one 
of them fell in, and the other plunged after to save him, 
and both were drowned. Some envious sprite, it seems, 
lurks in that dread spot to watch for pairs of brothers, 
and to induce one of them to stumble in, and the other 
to jump after him to save him, so that both may be 
drowned. "We had a brother travelling with us ; but on 
this trip we left him behind, and so escaped the sprite 
and the drowning. After a little we were sailing upon 
Ullswater — the English Lake Lucerne. It is encom- 
passed with bald hills that rise right from the shore, and 
lift very high their close-shaven sides and summits 
patched with areas of bare rock. Looking from our 
eyrie on Orrest Head westward of the passage to Ulls- 
water, we see the course of the beautiful drive from 
Ambleside to Rydal Water and Grasmere. At Eydal 



AT LAKE WINDERMERE. 1-17 

Mount, on our right, buried in with roses and ivy, is the 
unpretending cottage where Wordsworth spent so many 
of his years, and now the shrine toward which pilgrims 
are ever going. A little farther up the lake is Nab Cot- 
tage, for long the home of Hartley Coleridge — an edifice 
in external look not much superior to the cottage of the 
Dairyman's Daughter in the Isle of Wight. Beyond 
this is Grasmere, on the edge of Grasrnere Lake, the 
Westminster Abbey, where in solitary repose the bones 
of Wordsworth lie. That narrow path to the north-west 
under the shadow of the " Lion and the Lamb," two 
great mounds that crown the summit of the mountains, 
leads from the head of Grasmere to Easedale, which the 
tragic fate of George and Sarah Green, assisted by the 
magic pen of DeQuincey, has made immortal. A more 
touching story, more touchingly told, we do not know in 
literature. These two poor people left their home at 
Blentarn Ghyll one winter day, and six children, the 
eldest nine years old, to climb a mountain three thou- 
sand feet high, and make their way to a sale at Langdale- 
head, six miles away. They went, but on their return 
lost their way and perished in the mist and snow, and 
the snow-storm not only obliterated the path of the poor 
wandering parents, but buried the little cottage with its 
fleecy pile, and cut them off from all communication with 
the outer world. For two days Agnes, the eldest, 
watched the little flock, fed them, made them say their 
prayers at night ere she put them to bed, and on the 
third led them through the snows to Grasmere, where 
they told their tale and at once received relief. The 
body of the father was found at the foot of a precipice, 
and that of the mother on the summit. The story 
reached the ears of the Queen at Windsor, and she and 
three of her daughters made liberal contributions for the 



148 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

orphaned family of Blentarn Gliyll. And Wordsworth 
wrote of them : 

" Who weeps for strangers? Many wept 
For George and Sarah Green ; 
Wept for that pair's unhappy fate, 
Whose graves may here be seen. 

" By night upon these stormy fells 
Did wife and husband roam ; 
Six little ones at home had left, 
And could not find that home. 

" For any dwelling-place of man 
As vainly did they seek ; 
lie perished and a voice was heard, 
The widow's lonely shriek ! 

" Not many steps and she was left 
A body without life ; 
A few short steps were the chain that bound 
The husband and the wife. 

" Now do these gently featured hills 
Look gently on his grave ; 
And quiet now the depths of air 
As sea without a wave. 

° But deeper lies the heart of peace 
In quiet more profound ; 
The heart of quietness is here 
Within this churchyard bound. 

41 And from all agony of mind 
It keeps them safe and far ; 
From fear and grief and from all need 
Of sun or guiding star. 

" darkness of the grave ! how deep, 
After that living night — 
That last and dreary living one 
Of sorrow and affright ! 

" sacred marriage-bed of death ! 
That keeps them side by side, 
In bond of peace, in bond of love 
That may not be untied !" 



OUR SABBATHS IN GREAT BRITAIN. 149 



OUR SABBATHS IN GREAT BRITAIN. 

Presbyterian pastors hear very little more preaching 
than the heathen do, and while the duty of preaching 
the Gospel is at once a high honor and a most precious 
privilege, yet to sit in the pew, with no other responsi- 
bility but to worship in prayer and song, and in listening 
and applying to the heart well-digested, devout, and 
spiritual expositions of the Gospel, is a luxury richly 
enjoyed when circumstances permit. This luxury it was 
our lot to enjoy for ten or twelve Sabbaths in succession. 

Having, since our visit abroad ten years ago, heard 
such a din from the chatter and clamor, the bravado and 
bluster of unbelief ; having read insinuations and obtru- 
sive and exultant assertions that in the ever-clearing 
atmosphere of " scientific truth," Gospel faith in the 
Old World was becoming pale and sickly, and was ask- 
ing for shroud and coffin, we kept eyes and ears wide 
open for symptoms of paralyzing Agnosticism in pulpit 
and pew ; for evidence that the old, old story of Jesus 
and His love was losing its charm for the hearts and 
souls of men. We looked everywhere upon the walls of 
the Holy City for marks left by the battering-ram, and 
if we do not greatly mistake, we found them. The last 
ten years have been signalized by savage assaults upon 
the Bible, inspiration, prayer, and even theism itself. 
Prayer tests have been sneeringly suggested. Science 
has been suborned to lie against the Holy Ghost. Sciol- 
ists have caught up the ambiguously-expressed hypothe- 
ses of the scientific fancy, and iterated and reiterated 
them as scientific facts, until levity lias made itself 
merry over truths as grand as angels ever pondered — as 



150 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

solemn as death and eternity. And as we have said, 
these violent assaults have left visible marks upon the 
walls of Zion — marks, however, quite other than un- 
belief anticipated. If w r e are not greatly in error, the 
effect has been to unify the hosts of God's elect ; to lead 
them to turn the eye from minute denominational differ- 
ences, and fix it full upon the great doctrines common to 
all ; they have added intensity to Christian zeal, and 
fervor to Christian love ; they have led to the confirma- 
tion of orthodox faith, and to a deepened assurance of 
the power and effectiveness of prayer. 

In our round of Sabbaths, we have attended service — in 
one instance four times on a Sabbath — often and almost 
always three times. We have worshipped with every 
Christian denomination, from that in Westminster Abbey 
to that in General Booth's Eagle Tavern Theatre. We 
have heard Canon Westcott and the Hastings Street 
preacher. We have listened to the aged patriarch, the 
middle-aged, and the young divine just getting mastery 
of his shield and battle-axe. 

One of the first points of observation was of course 
that of Sabbath observance, the heed given to the com- 
mand, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. " 
Oar situation in London, within a stone's throw of 
Trafalgar Square, gave us the opportunity of noting the 
regard paid to the Sabbath in one of the nerve-centres of 
the great metropolis. During the week, as all visitors 
in that part of London know, Trafalgar Square is one 
surging mass of life, bustle, and noise. It was said by a 
New York legislator that it required more brains to cross 
Broadway without loss of some portion of his attire 
than it does to be justice of the peace in the country. 
But Trafalgar Square on a w T eek-day is two or three 
Broadways concentrated into one. The gymnastics 



OUR SABBATHS IN" GREAT BRITAIN. 151 

required to get safely across that square, or any of the 
streets that empty into it or flow out of it, are sometimes 
trying and sometimes ludicrous. But when we woke on 
Sabbath morning in that vicinity, and by and by went 
forth on our way to the place of worship through that 
square, the aspect of things was calmly, sweetly Sabbati- 
cal. Traffic was suspended, shops were closed, and the 
chief stir in the streets was evidently that of people 
going their various ways to the house of God. Of 
course there were Sabbath-breakers more or fewer, but 
the change from the week-day bustle to Sabbath quiet 
was as distinctly marked as the change from night to 
day. Nor were our observations confined to Trafal- 
gar Square and vicinity. They ranged over many a 
square mile of the great city, and the force of Sabbath 
influence upon that city of four millions of people was 
very impressive. 

And what was true of London was equally true, and 
more emphatically true, of every place where we spent 
the Sabbath, except at Liverpool. At Canterbury the 
quiet of holy rest was broken only when the people 
began to flock to the churches, and then at the close of 
services the streets were full of people. At Ventnor, in 
the Isle of Wight, we spent two Sabbaths, and what was 
true of Canterbury was true there to almost an equal 
degree. The Sabbath we spent at Bala, in Wales, was 
intensely Sabbatical in its quiet, and its thronged attend- 
ance at the houses of worship. At Salisbury and Bow- 
ness there was nothing on this point to be desired. 

The one exception to the rule was Liverpool. The 
difference may have been due to the difference in our 
location. We were at the North-western Hotel. Dur- 
ing the morning there was comparative quiet, but in the 
afternoon the street before the hotel was thronged with 



15 2 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

people of anything but devout deportment. There were 
crowds of workingmen, a large proportion of them 
young men, and during the evening throngs of women, 
young women, filling the dram-shops, leaning against the 
counters, and drinking with the men. We saw compar- 
atively little drunkenness, but a great deal of coarse reck- 
lessness of manner, that told of disregard of the re- 
straints, not only of religion but of virtue. On inquiry, 
we were told that that section of the city was a noted 
resort of people of the dissolute classes. With this ex- 
ception, so far as our observation reached, the Sabbath, 
holds the minds of the people with remarkable power. 

Next we noted the psalmody. Perhaps it is too much 
to expect of know-nothing agnosticism, of rationalistic 
criticism, of wavering doubt and blind denial, or of sci- 
entific positivism, anything like a song. What have 
these to sing about ? Negations, perhapses, and per- 
adventures refuse to go into metre and rhyme. They 
drop no oil into the flame of poesy. There is nothing in 
them to set " the eye with a fine frenzy rolling." The 
heart has no echo, music no scale for such words as 

" How sweet annihilation sounds 
On man's death-startled ear." 

At any rate unbelief has as yet not come within speaking 
distance of the psalmody of the Church. Within the 
last ten years extensive modifications have been made in 
Christian psalmody. Large additions have increased its 
volume, and all in the line of pure, evangelical Trinita- 
rian faith. Some of these additions have been drawn 
from the best productions of the distant past ; some 
from the heart of the present, all full of the grace of the 
Gospel. Not only in the great cathedral and the impos- 
ing edifice of the great Christian denomi nations, but also 



OUR SABBATHS IN GREAT BRITAIN. 153 

in the rough camp of the Salvation Army, and in the 
rude throngs gathered around the evangelizer at the 
street corner, we hear the same suppliant song to the 
divine Christ, the same exultant song of salvation 
through faith in the sacrifice of Calvary. Only one who 
is far from home, and from all accustomed Sabbath asso- 
ciations, can know the emotions that thrill the soul as, 
entering a church of strangers, the familiar song breaks 
on the ear from hundreds of voices, " How sweet the 
name of Jesus sounds," " All hail the power of Jesus' 
name," " Sun of my soul, my Saviour dear," and others 
like these. The psalmody, wherever we encountered it in 
England, was rich with all that the Christian's heart loves. 

As with the psalmody, so with the prayers. In the 
Church of England, of course, there is no change. But 
the prayers in the other churches, with very rare and in- 
significant exceptions, express not only the devotional 
feelings, but the doctrinal sentiments of the Gospel. In 
these prayers the theological and christological senti- 
ments are sure to come into view. In prayer for salva- 
tion the suppliant will not disguise his belief as to the 
soul's peril of everlasting death. And through all the 
varied round of our observation, the prayers in English 
pulpits of all denominations were devout, fervent, proper 
in diction, and full of sentiments which are the offspring 
of purest Gospel doctrine. 

On these Sabbaths we heard a great many sermons, 
and with one exception they were sound in doctrine and 
powerful in practical teaching. The pulpit in the 
Foundling Hospital, London, is, as we understand, sup- 
plied in turn from various cpuarters. The morning we 
attended there, it was filled by a youngish clergyman of 
parts and education, whose air and manner reminded us 
forcibly of Cowper's curate in the " Task." He was ex- 



154 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

ceedingly well " got up." lie laid his manuscript on 
the cushion before him with an air of studious ostenta- 
tion, and deliberately scrutinized especially the ladies of 
the congregation ere he opened with his discourse. This 
proved to be a carefulty and sufficiently well written 
essay on selfishness. It bristled with quotations from 
the great essayists, and did credit to the preacher's lit- 
erary reading. Of Scripture it embraced little, of relig- 
ion none, of Gospel principle nothing but perversion. 
At the close he said that if any reliance was to be placed 
in the statements of Scripture, "love of man is salva- 
tion." As demonstration of this, he quoted the words 
of Christ, " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least 
of these," etc. His system of religion as preached that 
morning omitted Christ in all His offices, excepting 
simply as an example of kindness to man. Justification 
by works, the antithesis of that of Paul and Luther, is 
the only justification needed by man. 

With this exception, and we heard Methodists, Bap- 
tists, Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Evangelists, and 
Presbyterians, with this exception every sermon we heard 
was carefully prepared, well delivered, and sweetly, gra- 
ciously evangelical. One of the most solemn sermons to 
which we ever listened we heard in Salisbury Cathedral. 
One of the richest and most sensibly practical sermons 
that could be preached we heard in the Wesleyan Meth- 
odist Church in Liverpool. So far as we could judge from 
what we saw and heard, we are thoroughly persuaded that 
the doctrine of the Christian pulpit of England was never 
more sound, the preaching never more earnest, practical, 
and efficient, the faith of the Christian masses in the 
truth of the whole Word of God never more profound 
and unwavering, and the Christian spirit more truly de- 
vout than now. 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 155 

One tiling greatly surprised ns, and tin's was the fact 
that in no one of the great places of resort, as hotels and 
boarding-houses, did we find any directory to places of 
worship. At the great North- western Hotel of Liver- 
pool, for example, thronged as it so often is with stran- 
gers, we could gain no information os to the churches. 
Theatres, railway routes, indeed notices of almost every- 
thing else, met the eye except notices where people 
might find the house of God. In our country the young 
men of the church, or the Young Men's Christian Asso- 
ciations, see to it that a neat, conspicuous list of the 
churches of the place meets the eye, with the name of 
the denomination, the pastor, and the hours of service. 
But no such notice did we see in England. In Liver- 
pool we had great difficulty in finding a church at all 
other than those of the Establishment. 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 

Again on board the good, stanch steamship City of 
Richmond, which for many years has carried precious 
cargoes of human life over smooth seas, and through 
howling storms, and among billows big as herself, and 
come off easily victor in every windy, watery conflict. 
We look round in vain for our bulky, hearty, social, able 
Captain Land, but find his place well filled by Captain 
Lewis, of nearly equal physical dimensions, those of a 
typical, full-sized Englishman. But if we have changed 
captains, we have kept the purser, for which we are 
thankful. A more genial, gentlemanly, obliging, heart- 



15G ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

ily social officer than our broad-faced, broad-shouldered 
friend, Purser Collar, we do not wish to find. In due 
time we ascertain that our luggage is well distributed 
between state-room and hold, and we take a look at the 
pantry-shelves on which we are to spend our nights, 
partly in sleep, and partly in efforts — in the main success- 
ful — to keep from being deposited on the floor. 

One of these great steamships is a little world afloat. 
We have on board three sharply divided social classes — 
steerage, intermediate, and saloon. Each of these classes 
is shaded off by gradations upward and downward. No 
doubt the eye that looks through the outward appearance 
into the life sees in the steerage many a jewel more than 
worthy of the saloon, and in the saloon an occasional 
paste diamond that would be greatly over-honored by a 
place in the steerage. As at Queen stown we watched 
the emptying of the overloaded tender into our steerage, 
and saw the hissings and rekissings and kissings again at 
the separation of parents with daughters, brother with 
sister, for the long voyage to a strange land ; saw women 
of almost every age loaded down with huge bundles, 
flushed with excitement, startled by the harsh words of 
some rough luggage-handler bidding them hither and 
thither, and then huddled indiscriminately together upon 
the deck, our sympathies M r ere stirred, and we were 
thankful that no such lot had fallen to those that clus- 
tered about us in our American home. But right 
athwart our jjitying sympathies came the thought, how 
short a period will have passed when many of these 
Bridgets now so obedient to the sharp behests of every 
surly underling would be putting on queenly airs in our 
homes and worrying the life out of their mistresses. 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 157 



KRAO. 



Among our passengers in the saloon is the child Krao, 
another of the " missing links 1 ' of the Barnums of sci- ® 
ence and of showmen. After having been exhibited in 
various cities in Europe she is now on her way to 
America as a specimen of the animal world, which, as 
her possessor informs me, is the product of millions of 
years of " development" from the monkey or some other 
beastly ancestor. According to the account we received, 
years ago an agency, consisting of several men, proceeded 
to northern Siam, where rumor reported the existence of 
a certain tribe of hairy savages. These bipeds, it is 
said, are difficult to catch, and when caught, hard to 
tame. The King of Siam generally has a few families 
of them in his stalls, and on occasion gives away a male 
or female, or both. The father of Krao, who is not 
living, was thickly covered — face and body — with hair, 
long, silky and black, and was hideous to behold, as is 
the mother, who is still living. The father after capture 
retained all his savage propensities, refused to speak, 
resisted all the approaches of civilization, and indeed 
seemed hardly better than idiotic. The mother, how- 
ever, is docile, and if her life is spared may yet, let us 
hope, become an ornament of society. 

This Siamese biped, the offspring of an idiot father, 
who — if we can legitimately employ this relative and not 
be compelled to switch off to " which" — was put under 
tuition only twenty months ago. showed herself to be, 
in intellect, quite the equal, if not the superior, of 
most American children of her age. Krao is seven 
or eight years old. She is apparently well formed, 
rather stout, healthy-looking, and with a remarkably 
fine head. Her nose is lumpy, her lips very thick, 



108 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

her eyes large and black, and the expression of her 
face anything but that of a savage. Her skin is of a 
light copper color. Over the white children, who seem 
to delight in her company, she assumes a position some- 
what of authority. She is singularly shy in answering 
questions. It would seem that a question takes her 
rather by surprise and makes a demand upon her knowl- 
edge of language to which she is unequal. This con- 
fuses her, and she quickly leaves you. But her imagina- 
tion is vivid and active, and she delights in telling 
stories, inventing the incidents as she goes along. Lis- 
tening to her one evening as she entertained a group of 
children about her, I heard her say : 

" One time there was a little boy and girl — no, a little 
girl, and the motha said to the little girl, ' You must go 
to school. ' So the little girl went to school, and the 
teacha said, ' You must learn this.' But the little girl 
wouldn't learn it. And the teacha said, ' You must 
learn it.' But the little girl wouldn't learn it. So the 
little girl went away, and there was a tree with a hole in 
it, and the little girl went into the hole in the tree and 
stayed there a whole year, and then went home to her 
motha." There seemed to be no limit to her faculty for 
spinning out such stories. One of her playmates, with 
the honest frankness of childhood, said to her, " Oh, 
Krao, but you are homely." To which Krao replied, 
" If you was in Siam and no more hair on you than you 
have, they'd say you was homely too." This so styled 
recently caught savage speaks tolerably good English 
and equally good German. 

The one obvious peculiarity of Krao is her hair. That 
on her head is very black, long and straight, resembling 
closely that of the American Indian. Her eyebrows are 
very thick and black. Her upper lip is thinly though 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 15 ( J 

decidedly mustached. Her yellow cheeks are thinly, 
quite thinly, covered with black, silky hair. Down the 
sides of her cheeks near the ears, is a wisp of the same 
fine, silky hair. Such is the missing link which is to be 
exhibited at our museums. 

A DESIDERATUM SUPPLIED. 

It is probably quite common, at the close of a tour 
abroad, to regret that this or that was not done, this or 
that place not visited. And our party, when fairly em- 
barked on a smooth, lovely blue sea, under a sky all 
smiles, began to feel anticipatory regret at the prospect 
of having twice crossed the Atlantic without any experi- 
ence of a " rough sea.' 1 To pass over six thousand 
miles of ocean surface, as a duck swims over a barnyard 
pond, seemed so stupidly prosaic and void of romance, 
when almost all voyagers encounter storms of which the 
ship captain assures them that " in thirty years he has 
never seen the lite," would diminish by one half the 
satisfaction of an otherwise extremely satisfactory tour. 

But how often we meet trouble half way ! All our 
sad anticipations of a prosaic home voyage were purely 
gratuitous. Within three days from Queenstown the 
much desiderated " roughness" was vouchsafed to an 
extent that awakened misgivings lest the matter should 
be somewhat overdone. We suddenly fell heir to a 
" sea" got up and bequeathed us by an antecedent gale. 
Square miles of white-caps, which on babies or billows 
are indicative of squalls, appeared, and with results on 
board somewhat more than satisfactory. To be precipi- 
tated, as the writer was while struggling to gain the 
companion-way, straight through the door of somebody 
else's state-room, startling and astonishing the inmates 
and necessitating humiliating apologies ; to come to the 



160 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

table, as did some of our party, paler than Hamlet's 
ghost, cast one despairing look at the viands so tempt- 
ing, and withdraw with a sigh, and in some cases with 
unseemly precipitation ; to spend hours and hours lying 
on the back, with eyes fixed on the bottom of the berth 
above, as if the frescoes on the ceiling of the Santa Maria 
Maggiore or the mosaics of the dome of St. Peter's at 
Home there met the longing gaze ; this and much more 
and much worse goes a good way toward reconciling one to 
a voyage unadorned with " rough weather." Seeing one 
of the port-holes open, the merry Atlantic entered in per- 
son, to the thorough moistening of the inmates, bedding 
and habiliments. When the port-holes were closed 
against him the frisky old gentleman came aboard in 
torrents upon a large congregation of steerage passen- 
gers, scattering them as if a dynamite bomb had let 
itself loose among them. In some cases the tie that held 
a deck-chair in place gave way, on occasion of an extra 
vigorous lurch of the vessel, and sent chair and occupant 
down the incline u like larwine loosened from the moun- 
tain's belt." In one state-room, during the night, the 
wash-stand broke from its moorings and the berth broke 
down, and cosmos suddenly reverted to chaos. At table, 
the life of which the chickens, ducks, lambs, etc., had 
been robbed to gratify our appetites seemed to have 
taken possession of the dishes, knives, forks, spoons, 
etc., which suddenly took to skipping in lively fashion 
about the table and on to the floor. On the whole, the 
frame of mind began to prevail that agreed most cor- 
dially with that of the grave Counsellor Gonzalo : " Now 
would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of 
barren ground, long heath, brown furze — anything. "~ 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 161 



A NON-DESIDERATUM SUITLIKD. 

Tt was about mid-day, and our good ship was pitching 
head first like a runaway horse into the huge seas that 
rolled their great hulks upon our hows, making every- 
thing shiver again, when suddenly something gave way 
and the engine stopped and left the ship rolling like a 
log in a very rough sea. Whether she had begun to 
break up with the fearful banging, or whether some seri- 
ous leak had sprung, or the shaft had broken, few knew, 
and those few would not tell. All we knew was that 
our progress had been stopped in mid-ocean, and that our 
ship was rolling from side to side in a wild sea. Some 
of the passengers were thrown into distressing alarm. 
Many felt much more than they expressed. In this con- 
dition of things an hour passed, and then another, when 
word reached us from the captain that in another hour 
we should be again on our way. A sigh of great relief 
went out from hundreds of breasts when again the famil- 
iar thump of the engine announced the resumption of 
our voyage. Why on such occasions the captain should 
not give some intimation to the passengers of the actual 
condition of things is very difficult for landsmen to see. 

A CITY ON THE SEA. 

As our friend Judge David 'Wills, of Gettysburg, a 
co-Pan-Presbyterian Councillor, emerged upon the deck 
one morning, he was greeted by a son of Erin, a fellow- 
passenger, with the information that land had been seen 
on the southern side of the ship. This was welcome 
news to the judge, as it was now Friday, and he was anx- 
ious to reach home before Sunday. u Yes," said his in- 
formant, " we passed the City of Chester. I saw the 
smoke and steeples, though I could not see the houses." 



1G2 ABOARD AND ABROAD. 

" City of Chester," said the judge, " I know of no 
city of that name except one on the Delaware below 
Philadelphia." 

" Well, I dunno how it is, but that's wat a heard 'em 
gay in'." 

Some time after, this Irish landseer returned to the 
judge and said, " I was mistaken, sir. It was not land 
we saw, but the steamship City of Chester." 

At last, one evening, when the sun was well down 
toward the horizon, we sighted Fire Island Beach, which, 
in our impatience, seemed to have no western terminus ; 
then came Oak Island Beach, and Jones's Beach, and 
Rockaway Beach, and Coney Island, and now we serpen- 
tined our way among buoys and lightboats and other 
craft into the grand inclosure of New York Bay. But, 
thanks to that three hours' detention at sea, we were just 
too late to do anything further than cast anchor and wait 
for the day. Across the waters lay the southern segment 
of New York City sparkling with starry lights, and on 
our right a smaller segment of Brooklyn, also ablaze 
with illuminating jets, and that magnificent Bridge, a 
radiant, sparkling arch between the two ! 



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PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK d) WAQNALLS, NEW YORK. 206 

Feom Gloom to Gladness. 

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207 PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK & WAGNALLS, NEW YORK. 

History of English Bible Translation. 

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209 PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK <t WAGS ALLS, NEW YORK. 

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Makual of Eevtvaxs. 

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Meteopolitan Pulpit. 

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PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK & WAGNALLS, NEW YORK. 210 

"My St. John." 

A remarkable pastoral experience by James M. Ludlow, D.D. " A most 
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New Light on Mormonism. 

A brief and succinct History of this Stupendous Delusion. By Ellen E. 

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$1.00. 
This will he found to be a book of remarkable interest and power. It gives a vivid 
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Ulric Zwtngli. 

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Martin Luther. 

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PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK & WAG V ALLS. NEW YORK. 212 

obtrude themselves, and alike ill his comments on Daniel nnd the Minor Prophets he 
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Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge; 

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library."— Prof. Edward A. Park, D.D. 

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is invaluable. "—Julius H. Seelye, Amherst College. 

" I am delighted with the ' Religious Encyclopaedia ' edited bv Dr. Schaff, who has 
certainly enriched our American libraries with a greater store of ripe sacred knowl- 
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Stars and Constellations. 

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Stories in Rhyme foe Holiday Time. 

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Theology of the Old Testament. 

By Dr. Gust. Pb. Oehleb, late Professor Ordinarius of Theology in Tubingen, 
Leipzig. This Amer.can edition is edited by Prof. Geo. E. Day, D.D., of Yalo 
College. It has been introduced as a class-book at Yale and other seminar es. 
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Mew stand or fall together."— T W. Chambers, D.D. 

The Mentor. 

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1. John Ploughman's Talk. C. H. 
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Thomas Carly le. 4to. Both .... $0 12 ! 45 

2. Manliness of Christ. Thomas 
Hughes. 4to 10 4(1 

.1. Essays. Lord Macaulay. 4to... 15 47 
4 LL'htof Asia. Edwin Arnold. 4to. 15 
5. Imitation of Christ. Thomas a 

Kempis. 4t.- 15 

0-7. Life of Christ, Canon Farrar. 

4to 50 

8. Essays. Thomas Carlyle. 4io.. 20 
9-10. Life and Work of St. Paul. 

Canon Farrar. 4to 2 parts, both 50 
11. Self-Culture. Prof. J. S. Blackie. 

4to. 2 parts, both 10 

12-19. Popular History of England. 

Chas. Knight. 4to 2 80 

80-21. Ruskin's Letters to Workmen 

and Laborers. 4to. 2 parts, both 30 

22. Idyls of the King. Alfred Tenny- 
son. 4to !. 20 

23. Life of Rowland Hill. Rev. V. J. 
Charlesworth. 4i o 15 

24. Town Geology. Charles Kings- 
ley. 4to 15 

25. Alfred the Great. Thos. Hughes. 
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-,'!>. Outdoor Life in Europe. Rev. E. 

P. Thwing. 4to 20 

27. Calamities of Authors. I. D'ls- 
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28. Salon of Madame Necker. Parti. 
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29. Ethics of the Dust. John Ruskin. 
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"0-31. Memories of My Exile. Louis 

Kossuth. 4to 40 

XI. Mister Horn and His Friends. 

Illustrated. 4 to 15 

:Vi-34. Orations of Demosthenes. 4to. JO 

•'55. Frondes Agrestes. John Rus- 

kin. 4io 15 

SB. Joan of Arc. Alphonse de La- 

martine. 4to 10 

:;7. Thoughts of M. Aurelius Anto- 
ninus. 4to 15 

38. Salon of Madame Necker. Part 
II. 4to 15 

39. The Hermits. Chas. Kingsley. 4to. 15 
4l». John Ploughman's Pictures. C. 

H. Spnrgeon. 4to 15 

41. Pulpit Table-Talk. Dean Ram- 
say. 4to 10 

42. Bible and Newspaper. C. IT. 
Spurgeon. 4to 15 

43. Lacon. Rev. C. C. Colton. 4to. 20 



44. Goldsmith's Citizsn of the World. 

4to $0 20 

America Revisited. George Au- 

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4ti. Life of C.H. Spurgeon. 8*o 20 

47. John Calvin. M. Guizot. 4to . 15 
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I Must rated. 8vo 50 

50. shairp's Culture and Religion. 8vo. 15 
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Ed. by Dr. John Hall. 8vo,3parts, 

both 2 00 

53. Diary of a Minister's Wife. Part 

I. 8vo 15 

51-57. Van Doren's Suggestive Com- 
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58. Diary of a Ministers Wife. Part 

II. 8vo..... 15 

59. The Nutritive Cure. Dr. Robert 
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60. Sartor Resartus. Thomas Car- 
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til -62. Lothair. Lord Beaconsfield. 

8vo 50 

63. The Persian Queen and Other 

Pictures of Truth. Rev. E. P. 

Thwing. 8vo 10 

(14. Salon of Madame Necker. Part 

III. 4to 15 

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68-69. Studies in Mark. D. C. . 
Hughes. 8vo, in iwo parts ... 60 

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don.) 12mo 10 

71. The Revi-ers' English: G. Wash- 
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72. The Conversion of Children. Rev. 
Edward Payson Hammond. 12mo 30 

73. New Testament Helps. Rev. W. 
F. Crafts. 8vo 20 

74. Opium — England's Coercive Poli- 
cy. Rev. Jno. Liggins. 8vo. ... . 10 

75. Blood of Jesus. Rev. Win. A. 
Reid. With Introduction by E. 
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76. Lesson in the Closet for 1883. 
Ch'irles F. Deems. D D. ISmoV. 30 

77-78 Heroes and Hoiidavs. Rev. 

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